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Book.. 


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COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 







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A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 


























MEDITERRANEAN 

MYSTERY 

BY 

FRED E. WYNNE/ 

u 



NEW YORK 

DUFFIELD & COMPANY 

1923 






Copyright, 1923, by 
FRED. E. WYNNE 



©Cl A752157 


Printed in U. S. A. 



JUL19 '23 

<4 

O r Y 


TO 

ANNIE E. JOHNSON 

A TRIBUTE TO OLD AND LASTING FRIENDSHIP 











CONTENTS 


CHAPTER PAGE 

I. In Which I Order Champagne . . 9 

II. The Brandy Hole.29 

III. The Bishop Proposes a Toast . . 47 

IV. I Sail in the A ST ARTE .... 67 

V. What the Little Steamer Brought 89 

VI. A Plan to Save Jakoub .... 108 

VII. I Mount a Camel.125 

VIII. We are Caught in a Khamsin . . 146 

IX. The Dope Trade.168 

X. I Handle a Revolver.184 

XI. Captain Welfare Explains . . . 196 

XII. A Midnight Adventure . . . .211 

XIII. Captain Welfare Keeps His Promise 228 

XIV. Blackmail.246 

XV. Awaiting Developments .... 260 

XVI. In Which Captain Welfare Makes 

a Signal.270 

XVII. How Captain Welfare Returned . 288 

XVIII. How Jakoub was no More Seen . . 301 

XIX. Conclusion.310 























A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 


CHAPTER I 

IN WHICH I ORDER CHAMPAGNE 

I HATE the sight of those terra-cotta envelopes 
that telegrams come in. They have often 
announced ill news to me, and even in the 
absence of ill news they bear with them an atmo¬ 
sphere of emergency, suggestions of sudden action, 
which is always detestable to me. 

Bates stood by while I read the ugly puce form 
which announced, had I known it, the opening of 
the curious chapter in my otherwise quiet life 
which I am now trying to recall and to record in 
its incredible details. 

Incredible I mean from my then point of view, 
for a life and circumstances more remote from 
adventure than mine were then, it would be hard 
to imagine. 

“ There is no reply,” I said to Bates, who stood 
awaiting instructions. “ It’s Mr. Edmund coming 
for a few nights. Tell Mrs. Rattray he will be here 
for dinner, and see that a room is ready.” 

“Yes, sir. And if he comes without luggage 
again ? ” 


9 


10 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

A little pang of a kind of jealousy shot through 
me. 

It was two years since I or Bates had seen this 
ne’er-do-weel brother of mine, a year since I had 
even heard from him, and yet the circumstances of 
his coming without luggage was fresh in this man’s 
mind, there was a lightening of his countenance 
at the mention of his name, and I knew well that 
my dinner would be one of unwonted luxury. 

“ He can wear some of my evening things, and 
give him pyjamas, and—one of your own razors, 
Bates.” 

I will not have other people using my razors or 
my fountain pen. 

Edmund had always been an anxiety and an 
expense to me. He was now the only incalculable 
element left in my ordered life. But Bates seemed 
to be waiting for something, and it was as though 
a gleam of Edmund’s endearing eyes, the crisp 
curl above his forehead, the flash of his teeth 
between merrily curved lips, were faintly reflected 
from the expectant look in Bates’s face. 

“ Oh, and. Bates, you can bring up a bottle of 
the ’47 port, and decant it carefully.” 

“Yes, sir. Anything else from the cellar ? ” 

“ No,” I said. “ I suppose there’s whisky and 
claret in the dining-room.” 

“Very well, sir,” said Bates reproachfully as he 
closed the door. 

“No,” I thought. “I’m hanged if I’m going 
to have champagne up. He’d only expect it every 
night, and he hasn’t even written for a year. Now 
of course he’s only coming for more money.” 

Then I rang the bell and Bates returned with 
suspicious alacrity. “ You’d better bring up a 
bottle of the ’93 Pommery,” I said. 


IN WHICH I ORDER CHAMPAGNE u 


It was one of those delightful days in March 
when there is real daylight in the late afternoon, 
with a white gleam in the sky, and a wind keen 
enough to make possible the indoor joys of winter. 

The aspect of my study in my Sussex vicarage 
was extraordinarily peaceful to me. When I 
looked over the top of my book, as I often did, I 
looked into the bright friendly eyes of a fire of 
mingled coal and drift-wood. When I turned 
my face half round to the left, as I also often did, 
I looked across the familiar, discreet harmonies 
of my room, to a long French window which framed 
a view of my lawn whose grass was now smoothing 
and renewing itself after the winter ruffling, of 
the red footpath and the border already gilt with 
crocuses; of stately trees beyond my frontier, 
their bare branches showing the faint pubescence 
of early spring. Among these trees were the red 
tiled roofs of the village, and beyond it the Channel, 
eye-grey to-day under the silver sky, and covered 
with rushing “ white horses ” whipped up by the 
steady East wind. 

There was one long banner of smoke on the 
horizon, and a few miles from shore the brown 
sails of a couple of trawlers going close-hauled to 
windward with the flood-tide under them. 

All this peacefulness and beauty was, I say, 
particularly grateful to me. It was like a gentle 
accompaniment to the book which I was reading 
with no less attention on account of this conscious¬ 
ness of my surroundings. 

I had attended a clerical meeting in the morning 
and had, I suppose unwisely, said what I really 
thought about some of the topics under discussion. 

Now I was re-reading with especial interest 
the chapter on “ Persecution ” in Lceky’s Rise 


12 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

and Influence of Rationalism in Europe. Only a 
few hours before I had seen among my colleagues 
the faces of the persecutor and the heresy-hunter, 
and I was undoubtedly heretical. It was difficult 
to reflect that if all this had happened but a short 
time ago, say in the time of my own great-great¬ 
grandfather, these same men would have rejoiced 
to see my live body roasted; that even now, 
given the power and the custom, the spirit of 
Calvin and Torquemada was not dead, that it still 
lit the eyes of living men who could believe in 
“ Exclusive Salvation.’* 

After the fret, the prejudice, and the spluttering 
of modern theological controversy there was healing 
for my soul in the calm intellectual austerity of 
Lecky. 

Such were my preoccupations then. The aca¬ 
demic interests of a scholarly, well-to-do, bachelor 
parson of forty-five with a hobby for homing 
pigeons. 

I had just looked at the clock and realised with 
another glow of satisfaction that my afternoon 
tea was almost due, when my man Bates came in 
with this disturbing telegram. 

This Edmund who was about to burst again into 
the quiet routine of my life was my only brother, 
now practically my only relative, and some fifteen 
years younger than myself. At the time of his 
first appearance in the world I was old enough to 
regard the news of his arrival as an indiscretion 
on the part of my parents. My father was a 
younger son of our old and once-distinguished 
Irish family. He was one of those soldiers who 
are always doing the hard rough work of the Empire 
and seeing the other men in the comfortable posi¬ 
tions getting the “ Honours and Rewards." I 


IN WHICH I ORDER CHAMPAGNE 13 

• 

was born in India, and thanks to my mother's 
moderate fortune had been sent home in childhood 
to receive an expensive and perfectly respectable 
education. 

At the time of Edmund's birth my father was 
at home, railing at the Indian Government and 
the War Office, earning, I fear, the reputation 
of a bore with a grievance in the Service Clubs, 
and certainly blasting any prospects of a further 
career he might have had, by his frank and per¬ 
fectly just criticism of important persons. 

I was at Wellington, destined for Sandhurst 
and the Army, for in spite of my father’s atrocious 
experiences it never occurred to either of us that 
the world held any other career for me. 

Looking back I don’t think I really had any 
desire to be a soldier or knew at all what was implied 
in it. It just seemed inevitable, and I suppose 
I had up to then as much part in shaping my 
destinies as most people. I suppose that is how 
the ranks of the pawn-broking, cheese-mongering, 
grave-digging, and other apparently undesirable 
callings are kept filled. 

But I knew enough to resent quite definitely 
the halving of my patrimony with this younger 
brother, concerning whose intrusion I had been in 
no way consulted.' 

I bitterly resented also the continued illness 
of my mother after this event, s 

During the greater part of my short life, which 
then seemed so long, she had been but a memory 
of infancy, repainted during one long summer 
when she had been home, and then her gracious, 
lovely presence had utterly outshone even the ideal 
of memory. 

I had for her a boy's romantic devotion, and 


14 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

her death when the child was a year old and I 
almost a man, overwhelmed me with the force 
of a man’s passionate grief abrading the exquisitely 
tender sensorium of a child. 

And then the baby Edmund began to grow 
like her. From the first his eyes and mouth were 
hers. As he learned to speak he spoke with her 
voice, and innumerable little gestures reminded 
me of her. This was my first solace; and my 
early, selfish, boyish resentment died down and 
warmed into something else, transmuted by grief 
into the second great attachment of my adolescence. 

Nothing could quite kill this, and I suppose 
that is why, at forty-five, I ordered the champagne 
for him. 

Edmund was of course intended for the Navy, 
and as he grew older it seemed as if this were Nature's 
arrangement as well as the family’s. There was 
no mere acquiescence in this case, as in mine. 

But all these family dispositions were shattered 
just about the time I should have entered Sand¬ 
hurst. 

The whole of my mother’s property consisted 
of her interest in certain estates in the Straits 
Settlements, and by some mysterious fluctuation 
of trade these suddenly became almost valueless. 
Relying on the stability of this property my father 
had invested the whole of his patrimony in an 
annuity, so that the family might live with more 
dignity during his and her lifetime. 

With this we still could make ends meet, and 
even overlap, while he lived. But at his death 
there would be only a pittance for Edmund and 
myself. It would be utterly impossible for either of 
us to maintain the family tradition in the Services. 

For a youth in my position it was considered 


IN WHICH I ORDER CHAMPAGNE 15 

that there was only one respectable alternative 
—the Church. 

It was agreed by every one, including myself, 
that I had not sufficient brains for the Bar. We 
were that simple kind of folk that really believe 
that a high order of intellect is necessary for success 
at the Bar. I am told that this carefully fostered 
superstition is not yet quite dead. I was accord¬ 
ingly entered at one of the less expensive colleges 
at Oxford, where I followed all the fashions, social, 
mental and moral; acquired the usual affectations ; 
had my mind rendered as far as possible inaccessible 
to ideas; and otherwise enjoyed the advantages 
of what is called a “ University Education." 

It was the fashion then for superior persons to 
be patronisingly enthusiastic about what they 
called the “ Working Man." I accordingly obtained 
a curacy in an extremely unpleasant industrial 
district, and entered Holy Orders without so 
much as suspecting that I had a mind or a character 
of my own. 

From the “ Working Man ” I learned a little 
about the technique of pigeon flying and breeding. 
This informations has been invaluable to me ever 
since. It has provided me with one of the principal 
interests in my life, and even a little very precious 
distinction, when one of my birds came home 
fourth in a great cross-channel event. I also 
learned that the “ Working Man ” has no use 
whatever for gentlemanly young curates from 
Oxford, or their quaint little fistful of prejudices. 
I had the good sense to get out of his way as soon 
as I could and begin my education. 

In the meantime Edmund had developed on 
rather startling lines. Two preparatory schools 
had refused to keep him after a single term. The 


16 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

first on the grounds that he had “ corrupted the 
entire establishment/' the second because he was 
“destitute of the moral faculty." My father said 
the case was much more serious, that “ he had not 
the instincts of a gentleman." 

My father thrashed him well and hard. When 
this was over Edmund said, “ I'm afraid, daddy, 
this hurts you much more than it does me." 

Then my father consulted a doctor who said 
that “ a certain insensibility to pain was a frequent 
accompaniment of the criminal diathesis." He 
recommended a low diet and bromides. Edmund 
promptly broke out in spots. Thus he got his 
way, which was to enter the mercantile marine, 
as the Navy was debarred by circumstance. 

This was grievous to my father's old-fashioned 
prejudices, but anything was better than living 
with an insoluble problem with whom every one 
fell in love. 

The reports received from the training ship 
went far to reconcile him. These invariably 
described Edmund as “ obedient and keen." 

I am always glad to reflect that my poor father's 
anxiety and perplexity about this well-beloved 
child were thus allayed before he very unexpectedly 
died, and Edmund and I were left alone as regards 
relatives. 

For of our cousins of the senior branch in Ireland 
we knew hardly anything. They wrote kindly 
and respectfully about my father, but did not offer 
to come to the funeral. 

Shortly after this Edmund went to sea as a 
gentleman apprentice. He was away some five 
months and returned “in irons." I learned that 
he had broached cargo in order to obtain extra 
rum for his mess. He explained to me that “ 6very- 


IN WHICH I ORDER CHAMPAGNE 17 

body was in it, and a fallow couldn't stand out. 
I should have been horribly ragged if I had, and 
it would have been a damned unsporting thing 
to do. We drew lots for who was to get the stuff, 
and of course it fell to me. Just the damned 
family luck. I didn’t want the beastly stuff 
myself, for the simple reason that I don’t drink 
rum—anything else you like, but not rum. It 
makes your breath smell beastly.” 

I was convinced that his tale was true and felt 
that on the whole he had behaved well. 

Of course one could not expect the magistrate 
to take the same view. This old gentleman enjoyed 
himself tremendously with such an unusual text 
to preach about. However, when he had worked 
off the last of his platitudes, he announced that 
he had decided to give Edmund the benefit of 
the First Offender’s Act. He said he was influenced 
largely by the fact of the punishment already 
undergone by the prisoner through his having 
come home “in irons.” I believe the poor old 
thing imagined that this expression involved actual 
fetters. 

As a matter of fact Edmund’s colleagues and 
the cook had combined to ensure his having a 
fairly comfortable time. He said himself “ they 
didn’t even get ratty about my having no work.” 

So Edmund left the Court not without a stain 
on his character, and saddled with certain responsi¬ 
bilities as to reporting to the police which he described 
in terms so blasphemous that even to hear him 
made me feel unfrocked, like Stevenson’s maiden 
lady when she overheard the Jongleurs’ repartee. 

Of course Edmund’s indentures were cancelled, 
and the problem of his future became to me a 
very anxious one. 


B 


18 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 


It did not at all worry Edmund. He regarded 
the world as his oyster. 

Shortly' before this catastrophe I had been 
presented to a small " living " in Warwickshire 
by one of our distant and grandiose relatives 
who had the iniquitous right of advowson. I 
took Edmund down there in order that we might 
“ discuss the situation." 

My parlourmaid at once fell in love with him, 
and he trod on one of the best pigeons in my modest 
loft. 

I pointed out that our joint income, including 
my stipend, was likely to be less than £400 a year. 

Edmund said that seemed a good lot for two 
unmarried blokes. 

As his own share was less than £50, I thought 
this was cool. 

“ But you can't stop on here indefinitely doing 
nothing." 

"No," he agreed, " not indefinitely. I think 
there’s just time for a cigarette before dinner." 

It was impossible to get him to talk seriously 
about the future. When I tried I was always whirled 
away on the wings of his stories of places he had 
seen and men he had met. He talked so vividly 
and had so fully the artist trick of setting a char¬ 
acter before one, in the round and alive in a sentence, 
that I once suggested writing as a possible career. 
His whole being radiated scorn. 

" Quill-driving be damned," he said. " Even 
if I knew how to do it, I’m not the sort of man. 
I’m the sort of man, at least I shall lead the sort 
of life, for other people to write about." 

I was actually, without consulting him, humbling 
myself to try a jerk at the strings of the " Family 
Influence " on his behalf,- when he disappeared. 


IN WHICH I ORDER CHAMPAGNE 19 

After three days he wrote : 

“ Dear Old Man, —I’m back to the sea, so 
no need to worry. I've got just the chance I 
wanted, a first-rate sailing ship wanting another 
deck-hand. I made a lucky purchase of a very 
drunken old sailor-man’s papers. No questions 
were asked as they were short of hands, and I soon 
convinced them I knew my job. Naturally I 
have dropped the family name pro tem. and won’t 
be sporting our coat-of-arms at present. I’ve 
sent a line to Scotland Yard to tell them I've got 
a nice opening in the haberdashery line in the 
Midlands, and so won’t be looking them up 
for a bit. I’ll send you a name and address to 
write to as soon as there is any chance of knowing 
a port of call in advance. Tell Louisa not to 
fret too much, and I'll try to bring you home 
a nice parrot instead of the pigeon I damaged. 
This time I’m going to be a real good, sensible boy, 
and get on and all the rest of it. Honestly, dry 
land seems to burn the soles of my feet after a 
few days. 

“ Very many thanks to you for all you’ve done. 
This is bound to be a long trip, and though I mayn't 
see you again for a year or two, you may be sure 
of my real honest love. I shall make a bee line 
for your place whenever I do come home.” 

This parting was a wrench to me, and my home 
seemed very dull and miserable for a time. I 
had had my second sentimental tragedy, for I 
had loved, and for a short*time had been happy 
in my love. It had all ended in disillusion and 
suffering for me, and again Edmund had been my 
solace. Until he had gone I did not know how 
much I was dependent on him. 


20 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 


Nevertheless I had again the feeling that he 
ha i behaved well. The incident of the papers 
purchased from the drunken sailor troubled my 
conscience a little, but I really scarcely knew what 
was involved in this, or to what extent it might 
have been a fair bargain. I trusted Edmund 
not to have done anything mean, and his sailing 
under a false name was to me nothing but the 
breach of a social convention. I had come to 
look upon most conventions as things made for 
the guidance of fools, to be disregarded by sensible 
men as soon as they became inconvenient. 

I know it may be argued that this theory of mine 
is exactly that of the criminal. It is; but the 
criminal is only a fool with some independence 
of judgment—an exception. 

The majority of fools walk between the clipped 
hedges. The wise minority wanders in safety 
and at large, being careful that the fools do not 
witness their excursions. We have our own boun¬ 
daries which we do not transgress. 

In the meantime the deaths of two of our Irish 
cousins from diphtheria had placed me quite 
near succession to the entailed portion of the family 
estate, but the present incumbent being a young 
vigorous man about to marry an heiress, I had 
never regarded the possibility of my inheriting. 

It was only a few months after Edmund’s depar¬ 
ture that this youth went fishing in waders when 
he should have been in bed, and died very suddenly 
of appendicitis. I was amazed and rather horrified 
to find myself an Irish landlord. 

I resigned my living and went over to Ireland, 
but neither the place nor the prospect of that life 
attracted me. I did not understand it, and felt 
a stranger and usurper. Everything was in the 


IN WHICH I ORDER CHAMPAGNE 21 

hands of a most capable firm of land-agents in 
Dublin. 

There was a revenue that to me represented 
great wealth. 

The place, though very large, could easily be 
let for the fishing and shooting. I deliberately 
ran away, and became that accursed thing—an 
absentee landlord. I salved my conscience by 
insisting on a policy of foolish generosity to my 
tenants and found myself equally abused by the 
Press of all parties in Ireland. 

After some rather distracted wanderings I settled 
down in the Sussex vicarage in which this chapter 
opens. My researches in Byzantine history which 
shared my energies with pigeon-flying had attracted 
a little attention from some of the learned, and 
thus I had met the Bishop at the Athenaeum. 
He was patron of my present living, and as no 
clergyman in his diocese could afford the upkeep 
of the large and beautiful vicarage to which a 
stipend of £200 a year was attached, he gladly 
offered it to me and I as gladly accepted it. 

I had no qualms of conscience, since I was going 
to give the Church more than I received from 
her in the way of money; I liked the work of 
a country parson, and believed I could be helpful 
to a few fellow human beings. As to doctrine, 
that came within my category of conventions. 
I had acted in good faith at the time I took my 
ordination vows, and if I thought I had grown 
wiser since, there was no need to make a fuss 
about it. I wanted no one to believe or disbelieve 
as I did, but I did want to encourage people to 
behave well. I had many of my father’s old- 
fashioned prejudices, and honestly believed it to 
be a good thing that the Church as well as the 


22 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 


Army should be officered as far as possible by 
gentlemen. 

Thus the years passed very placidly for me. 
I and my house were in the capable charge of 
Bates and Mrs. Rattray, my housekeeper and 
cook, one of the best and wisest women I have 
ever met. Other servants came and went at her 
discretion, but my household affairs seemed always 
to run on ball-bearings, and Bates tempered for 
me the tyranny of the gardener and the coachman. 

I acquired four different reputations. 

As the breeder of “ Amaryllis ” who came-home 
fourth in the great cross-channel race already 
mentioned, my name was familiar in every colliery 
and public-house in the north of England. 

Among a select circle of the learned I was known 
as a conscientious and critical student of an obscure 
period of history. 

In my parish I was generally esteemed as a 
kindly and generous priest and friend. 

But by my clerical colleagues I was distrusted. 
If I was only suspected of heresy, I was positively 
known to be a trimmer in the vital matter of East¬ 
ward Position ! When I officiated in other people’s 
churches I always adopted the position and methods 
to which the congregation were accustomed. Thus 
both parties united in calling me “ Mr. Facing- 
both-ways,” and a certain very earnest Evangelical 
once said quite rude things about “ Laodiceans.” 

This buzzing in my ears was almost my only 
worry, as Edmund was my only anxiety. 

His first ship was burned in the Canton River, 
and he was landed penniless. He got a cable sent 
to me by the British Consul. Instead of sending 
what he asked for I cabled £250 and an urgent 
message to return. 


IN WHICH I ORDER CHAMPAGNE 23 

I waited in vain for his arrival, eager to share 
with him all the comfort that had come into my 
life. Instead I got a letter in reply to one I had 
written on chance of his start being delayed. He 
congratulated me on my good fortune : had gone 
up country and invested two hundred of my good 
pounds in some wild-goose land speculation. All 
that was wanted to make the money bring forth 
an hundredfold was another thousand. 

It was curious to me that I resented the loss 
of this £250 much more than I should have done 
when I was a poor man. I knew that this was 
the effect of possessing money on ordinary men, 
but I suppose no man expects to find himself 
reacting after the manner of his kind. 

I was angry and sent another £50 and a peremp¬ 
tory message. Then I was sorry. I could see 
Edmund cashing the draft and shying from the 
insult like a young horse from the unexpected. 
I would have given the thousand to have him back. 

But would not the thousand have kept him there 
until he lost it in its turn ? 

I heard no more and settled back as comfortably 
as possible into my groove. But for the first 
time I felt Edmund had not behaved well, a film 
formed on the surface of my warm love for him, 
and I knew there was anger towards myself in 
his heart. 

Nearly two years passed during which he wrote 
three times when he wanted money—paltry sums 
which I loathed sending, but I could not trust 
him with a larger amount, though God knows 
I was willing to share my all with him, if he would 
only spend it and live on it. 

Then he had come, announced by wire from 
Southampton. 


1 


24 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

He came in his fo’c’sle kit, with three sovereigns 
and some shillings which he called his “savings.” 
But he brought the promised parrot in a gilded 
cage, and a costly offering of Chinese silk for Louisa, 
who had long ago vanished into the limbo which 
awaits parlour vestals disapproved of by Mrs. 
Rattray. 

I admit I was a little nervous about the effect 
of his arrival and appearance on the arbiters of 
my household, but in twenty-four horns they were 
all his slaves. He talked to Bates as to a fellow 
man without any spurious bridging of the fixed 
gulf, and presented him with a strange exotic 
pipe. The Chinese silks destined for Louisa he 
gave to Mrs. Rattray, and I overheard him telling 
the entranced lady that he had brought them 
home for her in gratitude for her care of myself, 
about which he said I wrote so constantly. Thus 
I was made as it were accessory to his fa^ehoods 
and a partaker in the benefit of them. 

Most amazing of all I found him plucking fruit 
I would not have dared to touch while he told 
sea-tales to the completely subjugated gardener. 

To me he was delightful as ever. There was 
all his boyish affection, but that film was there, 
and I was aware of the spell he exercised as some¬ 
thing to be resisted in his own interest. We never 
spoke of my refusal to send the thousand, but the 
memory of it was there between us. 

He was then only twenty-three, but his aspect 
and manner of a fully equipped man of the world, 
of vigour and competence to subdue circumstances 
to his will, made him seem older. It justified a 
certain humorous treatment of myself as a kind 
of “ dear old thing.” I had to brace myself to 
keep my head. 


IN WHICH I ORDER CHAMPAGNE 25 

It was not until the third evening that I fairly 
got the talk on to his own affairs and prospects. 

I unfolded a scheme I had for settling him in 
the family estate as my representative. I explained 
my own coward flight and my desire, that not¬ 
withstanding that, the name should not lapse. 

“ In any case/' I argued, “ your son, if you ever 
have one, will inherit. I shall not marry.” 

“ Everybody thinks that,” he objected. 

“ We won’t discuss it,” I said, “ but in my case 
there are reasons why you may take it as definite.” 

He looked up and saw at once that this was 
final. 

"I'm sorry,” he said, " very sorry, old man. 
But even for the sake of a possible Davoren of 
the next generation, I can’t accept your offer.” 

“ Why ? ” 

“ To begin with it’s too generous.” 

“ It’s my desire—for my own sake.” 

“ In any case I’m not the man for the job. I 
couldn’t do it any more than you could yourself. 
Fancy me a country gentleman ! M.F.H. I suppose, 
and I can’t even ride ! I should start comic and 
become pathetic. I'm only a sort of ticket o’ 
leave man still, and they’d want to make me a 
magistrate ! ” 

I disagreed with him, but saw that argument 
was useless and abandoned this favourite project 
with regret. 

“ Have you any plan yourself ? ” I asked. 

“ Well, you see, it’s the old story. Dry land 
bums my feet.” 

“ But you can’t go on always—before the mast.” 

"No. I can take my master’s certificate.” 

This sounded pleasantly practical to me, and 
I was surprised and gratified to learn that he 


26 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

had mastered the theoretical side of navigation 
and could, as he said, “ pass the old Board of 
Trade exams, with one hand tied behind him.” 

I encouraged the notion and told him I had 
no doubt of getting the old trouble with the police 
cancelled by some of my influential friends on the 
grounds of lapse of time, youthful indiscretion and 
subsequent good behaviour. 

He laughed at the last clause in a way that 
made me anxious. 

“ Well,” he said, “ they know nothing about 
me over here.” 

“Then you can go to sea in your own name 
and in a decent capacity.” 

“Yes,” he drawled satirically, “ as Third Officer 
on a P. & O. I suppose, showing ladies round the 
ship, putting on a boiled shirt and company manners 
for dinner. No. I’m afraid I should be no better 
at that than the squire business.” 

“ But there must be a start of some sort.” 

“Not that sort. You people who stop at home 
see life as if it was half a dozen sets of railway 
lines, and a man must run on one or the other. 
It isn’t like that at all. If a man just dives in 
as he would into the sea, he can swim, he can 
live. There’s always something to eat. Making 
money is only the stake on the game, but the game 
is played for it’s own sake. All the duffers are 
losers, and if you’re not a duffer you win. Then 
you can come out of it and be as respectable as 
you like. You will at least have your own memories 
to live on.” 

“ It’s a bit vague,” I said, deliberately unmoved 
by his eloquence. 

“To be precise, then, my game is going to be 
trade. When I’ve got my master's certificate 


IN WHICH I ORDER CHAMPAGNE 27 

I mean to be master and part-owner of a little 
trading brigantine out East. Eve studied the 
thing and I know the business. It's the life I 
like and understand, and there's pots of money 
in it w r hen you know the ropes, and the right people. 
I’m not talking any story-book rot. There are 
commodities out there that you can trade best 
in in small boats. Little cargoes of high value. 
Things people know nothing about at home.” 

“ It all means capital, doesn’t it ? ” 

“ Oh, of course one must have some capital, 
very little to start. To people in the know it’s a 
first-rate investment.” 

I said no more, and Edmund knew I meant to 
refuse to find the money for him. I can understand 
better now how exasperating I must have seemed. 
A country parson wrapping himself in a cloak of 
ignorance and taking it for superior wisdom ! 

However, he kept his temper perfectly, but this 
little root of bitterness between us grew and swelled. 

He stopped with me during the weeks it took to 
obtain his certificate and satisfy the legal authorities 
of his having purged his early offence. Then he 
signed on as second officer on board an East-bound 
tramp. Beyond his necessary expenses and £50, 
for which he insisted on giving me an IOU, he would 
take nothing from me. 

I know nothing of his Odyssey during the next 
two years, except that he told me that through 
friends in Hong-Kong he had secured a small 
interest in a trading venture and had both made 
and lost money. But he came home as poor 
as he went, though fuller than ever of confidence. 
As gay hearted at twenty-five as he had been at 
eighteen and delightful as ever to look upon. 

I had good news for him. During his absence 


28 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 


there had been an opportunity of realising the 
remnant' of my mother’s estate, and acting under 
a Power of Attorney I had from him I had sold 
out on his behalf as well as my own. 

There was thus a sum of nearly £ 2,000 awaiting 
Edmund. Had I known why the property came 
to have a value at all, and held on until the “ Rub¬ 
ber Boom ” developed, it would have been nearer 
£10,000. As it was, others made this money. 
But to do Edmund justice, he never reproached me 
with this. 

He went back to the East with his fortune, his 
high spirits, and his confidence. 

He wrote twice at long intervals, each time 
wanting money. He explained that this was for 
necessary current expenses, not for speculation ; 
that his capital was practically intact but locked 
up in trade. Freights and markets had gone 
against him every time, but it was only a matter 
of holding on. He was bound to win out all right. 

I seemed to see a wistful eye and a trembling 
lip in the letters, and I hated the thought of Edmund 
beaten. I think I wanted him to prove me wrong 
to myself. And yet the sending of the money was 
oddly annoying, though I neither missed it nor 
grudged it. It somehow thickened that film on 
our affections. 

Thus as I have said for over a year I had heard 
nothing until this telegram arrived. 

I trust I have explained my reluctance to order 
the champagne, and my final capitulation to Bates’s 
reproachful eye. 


CHAPTER II 


THE BRANDY HOLE 

E DMUND’S appearance on arrival was a sur¬ 
prise. 

Instead of the fo’c’sle kit, or the uniform 
of a needy officer of the mercantile marine, which 
had disfigured his previous appearances, he came 
arrayed in blue serge. He wore a suit designed 
by a tailor with a soul for his art, somehow sug¬ 
gesting an association with the sea in lines that 
everywhere emphasised the grace and strength of 
his figure, while conforming to the strictest tradi¬ 
tion of Savile Row. Everything about him was 
in keeping. His luggage, that great index of a 
man’s prosperity, was of the solidest and richest 
leather, not too new, and with the exquisite sur¬ 
face and the rich tone that leather acquires under 
the hands of a first-rate servant. 

I had never seen Edmund like this. His air of 
distinction disconcerted me. It made me proud 
of him, but shy also. This was such a new, strange 
Edmund. And yet just the same in his warm 
affection. 

His presence blew away all the mists of distrust 
and resentment as though they were a miasma of 
my own creation, the remembrance of which shamed 
me to a feeling of meanness. I felt paltry in my own 
eyes. 


29 


3 o A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

I remembered what he had said of life, and felt 
myself an empty wagon on a side-track. 

A queer shudder of apprehension went down 
my spine at the thought that he had but to couple 
me to his motive force and I would be a helpless 
thing to be dragged behind him. 

Then I bethought me I had got the metaphor 
wrong. I would be on a track no longer, but in 
tow to him on the high seas of life—a thing terri¬ 
fying to a middle-aged parson who had long ago 
found a backwater and bobbed at anchor in it. 
All these ideas, unformulated, passed through my 
mind in the fuss of his arrival and our greetings. 

At dinner he made merry over the pretentiousness 
of the wine. 

“ Confess, now, you would not have had cham¬ 
pagne up for a poor devil of a deck hand ! ” 

“ I wouldn’t have had it in any case. It was 
Bates insisted.” 

** Pardon me, sir,” said Bates. 

Bates had so got into the habit of talking to 
me during my usual solitary meals, that he com¬ 
mitted the unpardonable indiscretion in a servant 
of having ears and a voice. It was plain he did not 
regard Edmund as “ company.” 

“ Well you didn’t actually say anything,” I 
admitted in justice to him. 

Edmund laughed, evidently a little triumphant 
at the devotion of Bates. He insisted on his 
bringing another glass and pledging him. 

Informal as the occasion was, Bates was a little 
self-conscious at this. 

" My best respects, sir,” he said as he lifted the 
glass. 

I watched Edmund, wondering what was the new 
expression in his face that somehow dissatisfied me 


THE BRANDY HOLE 


3i 

His experiences, whatever they were, had made 
little change in him. His charm was undiminished, 
perhaps increased. But there was some change that 
would have eluded anyone less intimate than myself. 

“ A portrait painter would catch it,” I thought, 
seeking for the word to clarify my impression. 

As he nodded over iris glass to Bates, it came to • 
me. 

“ Surrender ! ” I almost spoke it. 

What could he have surrendered ? Something 
that had been precious I was certain. 

All our talk was of trivial things at home as though 
by mutual avoidance of any discussion of his 
adventures; we were dominated by the fencing 
shyness that comes over men, however intimate, 
when a discussion of importance is inevitable between 
them. ' 

There was a silence as we tasted the first glass 
of the precious port, I wondering if he would say 
that it had passed its prime. 

Then, as though from beneath the table, came 
a sound, to me familiar and somehow pleasant in 
its way, but puzzling, even disconcerting to strangers : 
the distant, muffled ring of iron upon iron. It was 
the unmistakable thud of a blacksmith's hammer 
on soft red iron followed by the clear taps on the 
cold resonant anvil, repeated in regular rhythm. 

“ What the deuce is that ? ” asked Edmund, 
listening. 

“They’re working late at the smithy.” 

“ Is there a new smithy ? ” 

, "As a matter of fact it’s a very old one. But, 
of course, it was closed when you were here before. 
It’s been going about a year now. I’ve got quite 
accustomed to the sound. In fact it’s company 
sometimes.” 


32 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

“ But the old smithy was right down near the 
beach ? ” 

“It’s there still, but it’s not 400 yards in a straight 
line from here. Our hearing the sound is because 
it is built over an old passage or tunnel which used 
to open into the cellar under this room. It is said 
to connect with an opening in the cliff over the beach. 
It’s a relic of the old smuggling days. We are 
rather proud of it.” 

“ I should say it looks a bit fishy for some of your 
reverend predecessors.” 

“ Fortunately for the credit of the Church this 
was not always the vicarage. I believe it was the 
Dower-house of the Manor, and very likely some 
dear old dowagers eked out their jointures by a 
little * free-trading/ Shall we have coffee in the 
study ? ” 

“ Wait a bit,” said Edmund, “ Fm rather fascin¬ 
ated by this noise. I suppose you have explored 
the passage ? ” 

“ No. I’ve opened the old door in the cellar 
and gone down the steps leading into it. But I 
hate underground places. I fear I suffer from 
what the doctors call claustro-phobia.” 

“ Is that cob-webs ? ” 

“Well, mental cob-webs I suppose! Anyhow, 
smugglers’ passages are a bit out of my line. But 
I have found the opening in the cliff, at least I 
think so. It’.s cunningly hidden from the front 
by a mass of chalk. I was led to it by what I 
suppose was the smugglers’ old track. One of my 
birds landed exhausted on the cliff after a cross¬ 
channel flight, and I had to rescue him.” 

“ Well, I should have been right down that passage 
and out at the other end if I’d been you. Any 
objection to my exploring it to-morrow with Bates ? ” 


THE BRANDY HOLE 


33 

“ None whatever, so long as you bring Bates 
back undamaged." 

" Oh, Bates! " he said laughing, “ It doesn’t 
matter about me." 

“ Not so much, old man. You’ve made me get 
used to doing without you. But without Bates I 
should be as a pelican in the wilderness. Come on, 
if you’ve finished your wine, for I must hear your 
story, and what you have been doing." 

My diary contains a very complete record of my 
talk with Edmund on this occasion, and looking 
back it seems to me that he paid me a great com¬ 
pliment. I see now how perfectly sincere he was. 
Then I was too absorbed in trifles and pettifogging 
distrusts to rejoice in what he said at all. I had 
to precipitate the conversation, and I did it bluntly 
by asking him why he had left me so long without 
a letter. 

“ Don't you understand," he asked me, " that I 
have come to look on you as the * friend bom for 
adversity ’ ? " 

I told him I didn’t quite follow. 

He said, "It’s hard to explain. Potty little 
things like money come into it so much. But 
every time I’ve written to you I’ve been in trouble 
of some sort. You’ve never given me advice. 
If it’s only been money, you’ve always forked out. 
But the point is, you’ve always been there—just 
yourself—someone to be responsible to. Damn it, 
I can’t explain. But it’s kept me—well—no—I 
can’t say straight, exactly, but reasonably decent. 
So that I could come back and shake vour hand, 
anyhow." 

“ And you have prospered, after all ? " 

" Well, I didn’t lose everything, but darned 
nearly. You were right not to trust me about 

c 


34 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

that Far Eastern Trade. I was very young and 
very cock-sure, and it was some time before I dis¬ 
covered there were too many sharks in those 
waters. Lord, what a young ass I was ! Those 
Hong-Kong fellows had me weighed up to an ounce. 
I had a bad time kicking myself, but I managed 
to pull out my last £ 200. That/ annoyed them 
desperately. I got a little of my own back in some 
other ways too. But I don’t think you’d like that 
story. It was then I met Welfare/' 

“ Welfare ? Who’s he ? It’s rather a jolly 
name.” 

“ Yes. The name influenced me. He’s my part¬ 
ner. Captain Welfare he calls himself. You must 
meet him.” 

I saw the look I didn’t quite understand become 
accentuated in Edmund’s face. 

“ I didn’t know you had a partner. Partner in 
what ? What is your business ? Let’s have the 
tale from the beginning.” 

“ It’s too long. We’re in the Levant fruit trade. 
Welfare’s a. rum old chap. The sort one simply 
can’t explain to people at home. He’s always 
knocked about, mostly at sea. Calls himself Cap¬ 
tain, but I don’t believe he’s ever commanded any¬ 
thing. He knows damn-all about navigation; but 
he can handle a ship all right. 

“ He’s admitted having been a steward on a 
liner. He got his start by collecting paper money 
from passengers—changing it, you know. Always 
getting hold of paper at a discount and unloading 
it at some port where it was up a few points. It’s 
extraordinary how paper money values fluctuate 
with latitude. Welfare had the whole thing worked 
out so that he was on velvet every time. As he 
says, it’s a nice safe line, but dull. And he didn’t 


THE BRANDY HOLE 


35 

like being a steward. The old boy has got his pride, 
and the tips went against the grain, I fancy. He 
was in the Pacific for a time and did pretty well 
with copra. 

“ Then he thought he was man enough for the 
Eastern coasting business. When I met him he 
had just been stung by some merchants in Shanghai. 
He was taking it badly—oh, rottenly! I found 
him in an opium shebeen and broke his collar 
bone getting him on a rickshaw. I got hold of a 
decent European doctor man. Old Welfare car¬ 
ried on frightfully about his collar bone while he 
was crazy, but the little doctor got him round all 
right. He used to come and stick a needle into 
him and squirt stuff into him—atropine and 
all sorts of poisons. Old Cfippen’s stuff he told 
me he used when Welfare was rowdy. Anyhow, 
Welfare got all right, only beastly sentimental.” 

Edmund paused to light another cigar, and I 
did not interrupt him. I find it is impossible in 
writing to convey any idea of the casual way in 
which his narrative dribbled out. 

Only that morning one of my old ladies in the 
parish had been much more impressive about the 
qualily of some dried peas she had bought from our 
local grocer—a relentless monopolist, but a sides¬ 
man and communicant. 

To her I knew exactly what to say, how to 
sympathise. But Edmund made me feel as if I 
had swallowed a bound volume of The Boy’s Own 
Paper. 

I waited until his cigar was fairly under way. 

" You have not yet told me what you are doing 
now,” I said. 

“ No. I must come to that. We’re all right now. 
Certainly I did old Welfare a good turn, but he 


36 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

has more than repaid it. We had both been 
stung, but we found we could put up about £500 
between us. He said he had always kept this 
Levant business up his sleeve, and it was abso¬ 
lutely * It * for people with a small capital, like 
us. He had a pal, a Dutchman, who kept a hotel in 
Alexandria. Well, we went down there. The Dutch¬ 
man was all right but very cautious. Things 
hung fire a bit. I had to keep myself and I didn't 
want to touch my capital. There wasn't much left 
to touch. Well, the fact is I ‘ managed' a steam 
laundry there for three months. Made it pay, too." 

“ That’s good," I said. 

" Yes—you should have seen the steam 1 and the 
natives blowing water from their mouths on the stuff 
while it was ironed! Nice clean women’s frocks ! 
I couldn't stick it." 

“ It sounds very unpleasant." 

“ Oh, it was rotten! Summer weather too. 
However, the luck turned then and we bought 
the Astorte with the help of the Dutchman. We’ve 
paid him off now and she’s all our own." 

“ And what on earth is the A started " I asked. 

“ I thought I had told you. She’s our boat of 
course. A rum-looking thing in these waters. 
But just what I’ve always dreamed of. I am 
master and part owner, and I told you years ago 
that was what I was setting out to be; only I 
didn’t think it would be in the Mediterranean." 

There was a long pause in our talk, I looking at 
Edmund, thinking of him as he should have been, 
rising from step to step in the Navy, carrying on the 
old family tradition of service and duty. 

I could not help noticing a restraint in his manner, 
as though he were making careful selection of the 
parts of his story he chose to tell me. And there 


THE BRANDY HOLE 37 

was that look on his face, the look of surrender, a 
subtle weakening about the mouth and chin; and 
in his eyes, I fancied, the mere shrewdness of the 
merchant elbowing out the look of command that 
had been natural to him. 

" Tell me about the Astarte and the trade," I said. 

" Ah, the little Astarte is the best part of the 
story," said Edmund with a return of enthusiasm. 
“ We got her for an old song and we’ve made a 
dandy ship of her. She’s a Levantine schooner, 
Greek really, about 150 tons. Wood, of course, but 
we have a good new copper bottom on her. She’s 
a bit slow, but stiff as a poker in a breeze, and 
comfortable as a country pub ! And she’ll point 
as near the wind as anything I ever sailed. Rum¬ 
looking though, when you’re not used to the type. 
Any amount of free-board sloping up to long high 
bows and an enormous jib-boom. She carries a 
flight of head sails like a skein of geese. She has 
two big leg-o’-mutton sails, and we can shove a 
couple of square sails on the foremast when we want 
to. Oh, she’s pretty, I can tell you, and head-room 
enough for a giraffe' in the saloon. You must 
come for a cruise in her." 

"I’d love to. Where is she now ? ’’ 

" She’s in Tilbury at present. Old Welfare’s 
there with her on some business. He looks after 
the trade mostly. I do the yachting. I tell you, 
it’s just owning a yacht that keeps herself and her 
owners too ! " 

" And how do you make all the money ? " 

" Well—mostly fruit. Welfare’s great idea was 
trading direct with the Arabs on the Egypt and 
Palestine coast. In the season we load up their 
dates and figs and melons, and take them and sell 
almost direct to the consumers. So we are our own 


38 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

middle-men and collar all the profits. Then 
there are lots of odds and ends in the East. Curios 
and cheap fabrics, brass ware, Gaza pottery, jewel¬ 
lery. No end of things that would sell like hot 
cakes in this country. We have collected stacks of 
things. In fact that’s partly what brought us home. 
And what I'm afraid you won’t like is that, fol¬ 
lowing up our direct trading principles, we’re going 
to run a shop of our own. Like those places in 
Port Said, you know. If you saw the prices those 
fellows get ! " 

“ But why on earth shouldn’t I like it ? Es¬ 
pecially if it brings you home oftener. Why, my 
dear fellow, shop-keeping is rapidly passing into 
the hapds of the aristocracy while the bourgeoisie 
buy up the old estates ! ” 

I was greatly relieved, thinking this was the secret 
of his slight embarrassment and the look that had 
puzzled me. 

All his story was perfectly plausible to me. 
Looking back now I do not really see that any 
country parson, ignorant alike of commerce and of 
the near East, could be blamed for finding nothing 
suspicious in it. 

“ Then you wouldn’t mind our business being 
in Brighton ? ” he asked. “ It’s a bit near you. 
But of course our name won’t be over the window. 
No need for anyone to know you’ve any association 
with it at all. Welfare w r ants to call it ‘ Oriental 
Bazaar ” or some old stale thing like that. He 
was wild with me for suggesting “ Fakes Limited.’ 
One reason he wants Brighton is because the 
Astarte could stand in near enough to be seen from 
the front and send in boat-loads of stuff under the 
eyes of the populace. Then it’s handy for London, 
and of course the real trade must go through 


THE BRANDY HOLE 


39 

London. But of course the main reason for striking 
Brighton is that it's season is all the year round. 
It's always full of people with more money than 
brains/' 

“ I think it's a splendid idea/’ I said, and I really 
meant it. “ Everything you sell, whatever it's 
price, will be the genuine thing—straight from the 
East. We associate shop-keeping with the huck¬ 
stering ideas of a servile class. Fve often wanted 
to prove that shop-keeping, all trade, can be en¬ 
nobled. But what can a mere shareholder do ? 
What does he know even of the things that are 
done in his name ? ” 

“ Wait a minute, old man. I don't want to give 
you any impression that we’re out for the purifica¬ 
tion of trade, or anything of the sort. We’re out 
for money—and fun. At least I am. Welfare's 
out for money.” 

“ Quite,” said I, in my new-born enthusiasm. 
“ And it's all the better. I don't want any amateur 
things. They're all quack things. Edmund, I’d 
like to be a partner in this. If you want capital, 
you know I can find it.” 

To my surprise Edmund looked rather distressed. 

“ It might seem cheap,” I continued, “ to offer 
you money now when you are prospering and 
probably can get it without difficulty. I mean 
after I refused to finance you before. But I’m 
sure you know me better than to think it's only 
security I have in mind.” 

“ I do, old man,” said Edmund, “ I know you too 
well. I know you would give me all the money we 
want and more. And as a financial proposition 
I could honestly advise you to do it. But somehow 
I don’t want you to. Money after all is a very 
secondary thing—when you have got it. Welfare 


40 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

can raise all we want, he says, in the city. You 
keep out of it.” 

“ But I want to be in it f Can’t you imagine 
a little craving for romance, even at my advanced 
age ? And the Levant! Do you know I corre¬ 
spond in Latin with monasteries there ? That I have 
always promised myself a trip there and have 
been too lazy to go ? Couldn’t I go to Scutari 
in the Astarte if I were a partner ? And I have 
a dear friend in Aleppo whom I have never seen. 
I wonder what a monk’s Latin would sound like, 
spoken ? This man I believe started life as an 
Albanian.” 

" I don't know,” said Edmund. “ I never 
tried talking Latin to an Albanian monk. As a 
matter of fact I never got beyond ‘ mensa' my¬ 
self. I started ‘ dominus ’ and switched on to 
the modem side, just when I arrived at the genitive 
plural. Of course we could go up the Dardanelles 
and you could get ashore and explore about. But 
if it's business, you must talk it over with Welfare. 
He’s coming to Brighton.” 

" Well, let’s have him ! ' r e.” 

“ You could have him here if you like, of course,” 
said Edmund merrily. “ He won’t actually deafen 
you with the crash of falling H’s, and he won’t 
get puzzled among the forks on the dinner table. 
But* I’ve told you—he's not what you and I call a 
gentleman. And unfortunately he’s what they 
call, I believe, a convinced Nonconformist.” 

I looked at Edmund, but he was perfectly serious. 

To me it was as though I had been told that 
Odysseus had been a homceopath. 

“ If he doesn’t mind being the guest of the 
Established Church I expect we’ll get on very well. 
I'm not exactly bigoted on doctrinal points.” 



THE BRANDY HOLE 41 

" No. But I’m wondering how Bates would 
stick him ? ” 

“ Really, Edmund, I know I spoil Bates, and so 
do you when you’re here, but I have not got the 
length of allowing him to choose my guests.” 

“ Well, old Welfare will enjoy it. As a matter 
of fact he’ll be enormously flattered. He'll take 
you for a sort of ' swell,’ to use his own language. 
And he’ll be tremendously interested in that 
underground passage.” 

" Why ? ” I queried, in surprise. 

If this were a play or a novel I suppose the stage 
direction would be that " Edmund bit his lip.” 
Of course he didn’t do anything of the sort. I 
don’t suppose any sane human being ever did, 
though I have myself bitten my tongue accidentally. 

I did however get an impression that Edmund 
somehow felt he had committed an indiscretion, 
which I suppose is what the novelists and play¬ 
wrights mean. He went on a little embarrassed. 

“ I suppose it's a desire for romance on his part 
too. He likes poking his nose into anything of 
that sort. No cobwebs about him! Anyhow, I'll 
spend a good deal of to-morrow working through that 
passage and find out if there’s anything to show 
him. We might find hidden treasure in it—The 
smugglers’ Tioard ! If they left any brandy there 
it would be worth drinking by now.” 

I was at a loss to understand his eagerness about 
this passage, and some instinct made me resent 
it a little. I put it to myself that I did not want 
the peace of my home disturbed. I did not want • 
foul air and dust coming up into the house. I 
preferred to go elsewhere for the details of ro¬ 
mance. I knew that these were not my real reasons. 
But I had alwavs avoided the tunnel without 


42 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

knowing why, and I did not want it disturbed now. 

“ You will probably find there is no tunnel at all," 
I said. " It may be just a village tradition.” 

“ But you have seen both ends of it. And how 
else could the noise come from the forge ? Anyhow, 
I'll know all about it to-morrow.” 

I brought the conversation back to the more 
congenial topic of the A starts and my projected 
cruise. 

I had always been a keen yachtsman, and the 
novelty and the unconventional nature of the trip 
appealed to me. 

There was nothing to prevent my finding a suit¬ 
able man to take charge of the parish for a few 
weeks or more. Edmund’s attitude was a little 
discouraging. He was certainly not enthusiastic. 

“ We must see how you and Welfare get on,” 
he said. “It’s close quarters with a man if you 
don't just hit it with him. It’s a queer ship’s 
company, anyhow. All the crew are Arabs. You 
see their food costs next to nothing; flour and 
lentils and the milk of a couple of goats, mostly. 
And they work like niggers for a couple of piastres 
a day. We have a sort of skipper over them 
called Jakoub, I don't know any other name for 
him. He’s a magnificent sailor-man, knows all 
our boat and everybody in it. He rules his men 
with—well, the Arab equivalent of a rod of iron, 
acts as interpreter and saves us all bother with 
natives. In fact he’s practically invaluable, and 
I firmly believe, an ineffable blackguard.” 

” He doesn’t live with you, I presume ? ” 

“ Good God, no! He’s a native.” 

“ It will be an education to me to meet him.” 

” Then the Eastern end of the Mediterranean 
would be too hot for you in summer, and in winter 


THE BRANDY HOLE 43 

one is liable to get a dusting in the Bay that I'm 
afraid you wouldn't enjoy; not in a little tub 
like the Astarte ." 

“ Oh, I don't think I’d mind that. Anyhow, I 
could go overland and pick you up at Marseilles 
or wherever you are calling." 

“ Yes. You could do that. I'll tell you what, 
you’d better try a short cruise first to see how you 
like it. We could have a look round the Channel 
Isles. In fact we want to go to Guernsey. We’ll 
talk it over with Welfare." 

I went to bed cherishing a hope that Edmund 
might forget or abandon his proposed exploration 
of the tunnel. But an inveterate ringing of the 
anvil during our breakfast, and Edmund's evident 
attention to it, warned me that such hopes were vain. 

He instructed Bates to procure a pick and shovel 
and a lantern, and demanded what time he would 
be at liberty to assist him in exploring. 

“ I could be finished for an hour perhaps about 
ten o’clock," said Bates, " unless Mr. Davoren 
wants me for anything special." 

“ Oh no," I said. “ I shall be busy all morning." 

I could see the fellow was as keen as a school¬ 
boy on this nonsensical burrowing, and that the 
quick instinct of a servant had somehow detected 
that I did not care about it. But I felt it was 
better to surrender with a good grace. 

Presently I watched the two of them disappear 
down into the cellars with pick and shovel, some 
gardener’s baskets, a stable lamp and an electric 
torch. 

I found a sympathiser in Mrs. Rattray. 

" It’s likely the two of them will be suffocated 
with foul air,” she said, “ and Bates wanting to 
take the bird-cage with the canary in it, because 


44 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

he read in the papers they took them down after 
explosions in the mines, when all the poor women 
would be waiting on the top. * You’d be the easier 
spared of the two/ I told him, and the dirt they’ll 
be bringing up on their feet—they’re like a pair 
of children, sir.” 

“No better indeed, Mrs. Rattray. Perhaps the 
door mat from the hall ? ” 

I escaped into the study, only to be driven out 
by the muffled sound of blows and horrid scrapings 
of the shovel. I retreated to the pigeon loft. 

This kind of thing went on all that day and the 
next. 

Edmund was late for all meals and brought to 
them an earthy smell. Bates was never available 
when* I wanted him. 

Edmund reported the passage as being evidently 
of great antiquity, and quite roomy. It was 
only blocked in places, he said, and they had had 
no difficulty in clearing these so far. 

“ We are propping the roof where it has fallen 
in or looks dicky,” he said, “ otherwise we should 
have been through by now. I’m sure we’ll find 
the other opening all right because the air’s pretty 
fresh and we’ve fpund a lot of bats hanging up. 
You must come down to-morrow.” 

“ No thanks, the bats have decided me. There is 
between them and me what Lamb calls an ‘ imper¬ 
fect sympathy. ’ ” 

“ Oh, rot ! We'll get rid of them for you.” 

On the second afternoon they had triumphantly 
emerged on the cliff over the beach. I met them 
there and found the opening was the place I had 
suspected. It was about four feet high and the 
same width, but a great detached mass of chalk 
completely hid it from below, or from the sea. The 


THE BRANDY HOLE 


45 

rough path that led up to it seemed to have been 
hewn out of the face of the cliff, but had been much 
worn and weathered away so that it was quite an 
awkward scramble to reach it now, and impossible 
for children. This may account for the curious fact 
that none of the present villagers seemed to know its 
whereabouts, though there was a strong tradition 
of a “ brandy hole ” somewhere on the beach. 

I was tempted to penetrate a little distance into 
this end of the tunnel and was surprised at its 
spaciousness. A few yards from the opening one 
could stand upright, and it was quite five feet in 
width. Edmund said it was the same size all the 
way. In places the chalk face had been plastered, 
and I strongly suspected that this might be the re¬ 
mains of Saxon work. It was certainly of immemo¬ 
rial age, though it very probably had been adopted 
and used by the smugglers. There were remains 
of Saxon masonry in my church of which, as a 
parish, we were very proud. And I was the more 
inclined to date the digging of the passage to this 
remote period because I knew of nothing in the 
history of the parish in later times to account for 
it. Altogether the discovery was much more 
interesting than I had expected; but I refused to 
face the bats, so we walked home by the village. 

“ We must report this to the Archaeological 
Society,” I said. “ If, as I think, it proves to be 
Saxon there will be great excitement over it.” 

“Oh, hang the Archaeological Society,” said 
Edmund. “ Let’s keep it to ourselves for a bit, 
till I have finished my investigations anyhow.” 

A sudden vision of streams of hungry and ex¬ 
tremely boring archaeologists claiming the hos¬ 
pitality of the vicarage quenched my new-born 
ardour. 


46 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

“Yes, it’s really your show,” I agreed. “You 
can write a paper on it yourself in your own time.” 

“ Thanks. I think I see myself.” 

At home Edmund found a letter from Captain 
Welfare dating from the Ship Hotel at Brighton. 
He had found what he thought suitable premises 
for the new shop, and wanted Edmund to go over 
and see them. 

“ Then you can bring him back here for as long 
as he likes, and we can talk everything over,” I 
said. 

So it was settled. 


CHAPTER III 


THE BISHOP PROPOSES A TOAST 

E DMUND had gone to Brighton to meet his 
partner and inspect the “ desirable pre¬ 
mises ” for their proposed curiosity shop. 
Captain Welfare was to return with him some time 
before dinner. I had the day before me and I 
awaited their coming with a great curiosity as to 
the personality of this stranger. I was uneasy 
too, for Edmund was so much committed to hirr, 
and seemed to leave his destiny so much in his hands. 
From all he had told me about him, Captain Wel¬ 
fare did not seem to me the most desirable kind 
of person to have such a responsibility. He was 
certainly an adventurer, and hitherto not even a 
very successful one. And he was admittedly a 
man of low origin. 

However, it was clear that Edmund was bom a 
bohemian and would always be one. There had 
always been some such in our family, and as I 
thought of what I knew of their careers I could 
not deny that they seemed on the whole to have been 
much more charming people and to have got much 
more really out of life, than the sober average of the 
rest of us. 

I was certain that Welfare would prove to be vul¬ 
gar and could only hope he had a sense of honour. 
Although I had carefully refrained from any 

47 


48 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

criticism, which I knew would only irritate Edmund, 
I did in fact rather dislike the idea of the shop, 
and though my ignorance of commercial matters 
was fairly complete, it seemed to me unnecessary 
and unbusinesslike to have brought the Astarte 
all the way from the Eastern Mediterranean for 
the purpose of establishing and stocking it. I 
could only suppose it was a case of combining 
business with pleasure. 

I determined to put aside all these worrying 
preoccupations and return to some literary work 
that had been interrupted since Edmund’s return. 

Again I was interrupted, and somewhat fluttered, 
by the receipt of a telegram. 

This was from the bishop to say he was coming 
over about lunch time and would stay the night if 
convenient. 

Whatever Captain Welfare proved to be I felt 
he would harmonise ill with the bishop, and my 
first impulse was to reply with some honourable 
fiction that would postpone the visit. But even 
as I cast about in my mind for the suitable subter¬ 
fuge to commit to the pre-paid form, I bethought 
me of how seldom my dear bishop got a chance of 
taking refuge with me for one quiet bachelor even¬ 
ing, of the disappointment it would be to both of 
us to lose this one. Besides, I reflected, Parminter 
^s a man of the world, much more so than I am, 
and he has a catholic taste in mankind. Captain 
Welfare will interest him, whatever he is, and he 
has always wanted to meet Edmund. Anyhow there 
would be time enough to explain everything to him. 

I wrote “ Delighted ” on the telegraph form and 
gave it to Bates. 

" It’s the Bishop,” I said to Bates. 

“ Yes, sir.” 


THE BISHOP PROPOSES A TOAST 49 

“ He will be here for lunch and will stop the 
night.” 

“ Yes, sir.” 

“ Of course his Lordship will have his usual room. 
Put Captain Welfare somewhere else.” 

“ Very well, sir.” 

Having thus made my preparations as a thoughtful 
host, I found it was impossible to settle down to 
my monograph on the " Greco-Turkish Alliance of 
the Sixth Century.” 

I went out and awaited the bishop amid the 
sedative influences of my pigeons. 

The Right Rev. John Parminter was not only 
my diocesan, but for some years had been, and 
thank God still is, my dearest friend. He shared 
my interest in the Byzantine Empire, and, as I 
think I have mentioned, it was this which first 
brought us together. 

As a bishop he had less spare money, and far 
less leisure than I had, to devote to our common 
hobby. He professed to envy me as an “ author¬ 
ity.” As a matter of fact I am but a painstaking 
student. What my few books possess of merit 
in the way of generalisation, of inference or specula¬ 
tion, they owe entirely to Parminter’s inspiration. 

He is one of those men bom to distinction, who 
show the fact from schoolboy days. At this time 
he was in his early fifties, some eight years older 
than myself, but quite among our younger bishops. 
He was a young man, and indeed still is, in mind 
and heart, and even in physique. 

But he was already a power and influence in both 
Church and State, and had managed to avoid 
the hatred and mistrust of all parties in the Church 
although he wore the label of none of them. 

I believe I alone knew the extent of his hetero- 


D 


50 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

doxy. It was indeed my greatest honour to have 
been chosen as his confidant. 

Whenever it was possible, he loved to come to 
my vicarage for what he called “ a night’s holiday,” 
and the one mystery of my household was that 
the bishop kept here, and always wore, an ordinary 
layman’s dinner-jacket and trousers ! 

“ This is dreadfully short notice,” he said as I 
met him at the hall-door, “ but I know you would 
have told me if my coming was a nuisance.” 

" I would. If you could ever be a nuisance. 
I’m the man to say it. Come along in.” 

He could not abide any ceremony in my house, 
and insisted on my calling him " Pafminter ” 
when we were alone. Before Bates I addressed him 
as “bishop” and if anyone else were present I 
' put in all the necessary " My Lords.” 

" We shall not be alone to-night,” I told him as 
we lit cigarettes in the study. 

“ Oh. I’m sorry, if it’s not rude to say so. Who 
have you got with you ? ” 

" Edmund.” 

" Oil, good! I’ve always missed the wicked 
brother, and I long to meet him. I do hope he is 
not reformed or anything disastrous ? ” 

“ I hardly know yet. He’s quite prosperous 
this time.” 

"Ah ? Well, perhaps it’s ill-gotten gains and quite 
interesting. I want to hear his adventures from 
himself.” 

“ So no doubt you will. But I must warn you 
there is a stranger as well.” 

The bishop’s face fell. "So I suppose I won't 
be able to wear my * tea-gown/ ” he said. 

I tried to explain Captain Welfare, as well as one 
can explain a man one has never seen. 


THE BISHOP PROPOSES A TOAST 51 

“ I think we may be a most interesting party/’ 
said the. bishop. ” I wish Captain Welfare would 
turn out to be a pirate in disguise. It would be 
so refreshing and stimulating. I should love to 
meet a pirate with a Nonconformist conscience.” 

During lunch our talk wandered away to the early 
Byzantine Empire, and I explained my difficulties 
about that old first Greco-Turkish alliance. 

I could see that Parminter was less interested 
than usual. 

“ It shows how deep the Balkan question has its 
roots,” he said. 

We went for a favourite walk of ours across the 
Downs. 

We crossed ridge after ridge, rounded and 
smoothed by forgotten oceans, with delicate shades 
of green and mauve blending under the March 
sun like the colours on the wing of a moth. 

Before us as we walked was the dark distant 
line that marked the beginning of the Weald, and, 
turning, we looked back across the grey and silver 
of the Channel. Far away on our right the sun 
struck a gleam of white from the cliffs of Beachy 
Head. An old shepherd and his dog slouched 
after a slowly moving flock of sheep on their 
browsing way to Lewes. On the sky-line a string 
of race-horses walked to their stables after a gallop. 

The bishop drew long deep draughts of the keen air, 
and I could see some of the care fade out of his eyes. 

“ This is England to me,” he said. “ So I hope 
to remember it when my time comes not to see it 
any more. I hope I shall have earned the right 
to forget the paved streets under the soot blanket, 
and those awful rows of red-brick * property ’— 
not homes, mind you, but someone's property, 
some vulgar greedy person's ‘property/ where 


52 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

children die, and women slave, and their husbands 
avoid. You have not lived among them as I 
have, and you don’t have to attend * Housing 
Conferences/ The cant I have had to listen to 
during the last few days, from sleek unimaginative 
chairmen of amateur committees of busybodies, 
and aldermen from the provinces with weird voices 
and ghastly accents. All these people with a lust 
for spouting platitudes and a determination not to 
look things in the face, with their total failure 
to get anything done/’ 

“ It must be very unpleasant—meeting that 
sort of people/' 

“ It is. But one must do it. They stand be¬ 
tween all right principles and the unconsciously 
suffering people, who actually vote for them! 
They represent the Kakistocracy which we have 
made of our pretended Democracy/' 

I looked at the bishop. 

His lean, humorous face was grave and earnest, 
his eyes shone with enthusiasm. I saw that he 
was quite serious. 

We walked for some distance homewards in silence. 

I have given but an outline of what the bishop 
said, but it depressed me to know of all these 
things going on in the great world outside my 
quiet home, my somewhat paltry life. It made 
me feel my own littleness and inadequacy. I 
frankly admitted to myself that I had no moral 
right to my wealth, that I had shirked the respon¬ 
sibilities it brought with it. But if I had under¬ 
taken them I knew that I should only have done 
harm through my ignorance. I had to content 
myself with being merely harmless; spending 
and giving my money decently and judiciously. 
The bishop had good reason to know that I was 


THE BISHOP PROPOSES A TOAST 53 

always ready to support with money any of his 
schemes that required it. As a rule I had none of 
Hamlet’s uncomfortable sensation that I was born 
to reduce dislocations of the Time. 

The bishop was quite distressed at a lame attempt 
of mine to express something of this. 

“ My dear fellow,” he said, “ we all have our 
Fate and our Function. It need not trouble 
your conscience that yours is somewhat pleasanter 
than the average. In these days the combination 
of scholar and gentleman has ceased to man the 
professions. When we do find one, I think he 
should be endowed by the State if necessary. 
When chance endows him, as in your case, we should 
thank God for it. But I ought not to have burdened 
you with all these harassing things that afflict us 
public men. You can’t imagine the relief it is tome 
to have someone to whom I can blurt out all that is 
in my mind without fear of his being ‘ scandalised.’ ” 

Our intimacy rendered any polite disclaimer 
from me unnecessary. 

We began to talk about Edmund, and I explained 
in further detail the projects of the partners. 

“ How old did you say your brother was ? ” 

“ He’s about twenty-five now.” 

“ Twenty-five. Well, some men are a long time 
growing up. Within limits it’s the best men that 
take the longest. I am sure from all you have told 
me that there’s a fine man somewhere inside your 
brother. But I hope he’ll soon get tired of play.” 

“ I suppose it is just play,” I assented. 

“ It’s nothing else,” said the bishop. “ And we 
can’t afford to have weJl-bred men shirking their 
job.” 

“ Sometimes I fear Edmund will never be very 
different. He’s a bohemian—a marine bohemian, 


54 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

if such a thing is possible. But there have always 
been people like him in our family.” 

“ Want of opportunity,” the bishop replied with 
emphasis. “ Such men are simply victims of our 
social system. There is always a job for them, the 
biggest kind of job. When they find it or make it, 
they become our greatest men. Very often they 
miss it through the hide-bound stupidity of our 
organisation. However, his chance will come, it 
is sure to come, if he keeps himself fit and ready 
for it. But I don't like this commercialism.” 

“ He won’t take my money, so he has to make it 
pay.” 

“Yes, of course. I hope he'll get rich at once 
and be done with it—or else fail altogether.” 

“You don't like the idea of the shop ? ” 

“ Oh, that’s only a detail. The whole thing 
appears to be petty trade.” 

“ He seems to leave that almost all to his partner.” 

“ Well, I don’t think he should. We don’t know 
this Captain Welfare. But anyhow, in.spite of 
all the modem tendency, shop-keeping is not for 
gentlemen. It’s bad for them. The worst fate 
that can befall a gentleman is to become * declasse'.” 

“ I don’t see what else we can do with him at 
present,” I protested. 

“ If he’s the kind of man I imagine, they’d take 
him up at the Colonial Office. I would introduce 
him to Brocklehurst myself, and he could start as 
deputy commissioner or something in a place where 
he would get all the adventure he’d want.” 

“ I should like that, of course. But I can’t an¬ 
swer for Edmund. He’s like a man in love—with 
the Astarte.” 

Oh, we’ll give him time to get over that. 
There’s no hurry at his age.” 


THE BISHOP PROPOSES A TOAST 55 

We reached home to find that Edmund and his 
partner had arrived before us. 

We saw them walking on the lawn and went on 
tt> meet them. They were deep in conversation 
and did not hear us approaching on the soft turf, so 
that we were close to them when they turned and 
faced us. Edmund was speaking and I caught the 
words “ dry and level from the cellar to the beach.” 

I remember a feeling of amusement that he should 
so soon be inflicting his obsession with the under¬ 
ground passage on Captain Welfare, whom I did 
not associate with antiquarian research. But this 
was swallowed up in my curiosity as to the per¬ 
sonality of that mariner. 

Edmund stopped short, naturally surprised at 
the unexpected presence of the bishop. 

My first impression of Welfare was his look of aston¬ 
ishment, almost of fear, at finding himself in so august 
a presence. For an instant he looked like a man who 
thought himself trapped. Edmund hastily introduced 
him to me and he said “ Pleased to meet you.” 

I presented them both to the bishop. 

Captain Welfare said “ Pleased to meet your 
Lordship,” and kept his bowler hat in his hand as 
we all strolled back to the house. 

It was that terribly uncomfortable hour after 
six when tea is out of the question, and one does 
not know what to do with a stranger before dinner. 

“ Have you had tea ? ” I asked Edmund. 

“ No thanks. We only got here ten minutes ago. 
Bates offered us some, but we didn’t want it. I was 
just showing Welfare the view before it got dark.” 

“ Very charming prospect, sir,” said Welfare. 
“ Very eligible place altogether I call it.” 

“ Come in to the study. There’s time for a cigar¬ 
ette before we dress.” 


56 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

The moment I said it, it occurred to me that 
perhaps Captain Welfare did not dress for dinner. 
I looked apprehensively to Edmund, who under¬ 
stood and nodded reassuringly. 

I handed round cigarettes. 

“ Would you like anything else, Captain Welfare ? 
After your journey ? Edmund, I’m sure you want 
a whisky and soda." 

“Yes, I think I do," said Edmund ringing the bell. 

“No whisky for me, thank you," said Welfare. 
“ Perhaps if you have a sherry and bitters ? " 

“ That’s an excellent idea," said the bishop. 
“You haven’t asked me, Davoren, but I think 
I’ll join Captain Welfare in a glass of sherry." 

I had always admired Parminter’s tact, and now 
Captain Welfare was manifestly gratified with 
the sense of having done the right thing under 
difficult circumstances. 

Captain Welfare was kind enough to praise my 
sherry. 

“ I hadn’t ought to have put any bitters in it," 
he said. “ It puts me in mind of the Green Man 
at Southampton, a little place near the docks. 
Naturally you wouldn’t know it. But they give 
you a glass of sherry there-" 

He went on with this topic in a kind of meditative 
way, as if he had forgotten to stop talking. 

As there was evidently no necessity to attend to 
his story, I took the opportunity of examining 
him more closely. 

His short powerful figure was curiously like 
what I had expected. But his face was quite a 
surprise to me. Most strange faces are somehow 
familiar. I suppose they fall into one or other of 
certain categories of faces we have unconsciously 
formed in our minds. 



THE BISHOP PROPOSES A TOAST 57 

This face was extraordinarily large, forming, as 
it were, the front wall of a massive head which was 
scarcely raised above his wide shoulders by a thick 
and very strong neck. I had noticed that while 
he was standing up. Now as he lay back in his chair 
the edge of his low collar made a groove in the 
flesh under his jaw, and his large indented chin 
almost filled up the opening of his waistcoat. 

His complexion was quite colourless. I thought 
at first it was scarred by small-pox, but the reticula¬ 
tions in his tough skin were finer than those left 
by that disease. I don't know if I am right about 
this, but it looked as if no hair grew on this sterile 
surface. I doubt if any razor could have shaved 
it. His vertical forehead, short straight nose, wide 
but well closed mouth and powerful chin were 
all rather admirable in a slightly grotesque way. 
He had undoubtedly the look of a man of con¬ 
siderable force and determination. But his large, 
well-shaped, greenish-brown eyes had a curious 
dreaminess in them, and something of the wist¬ 
fulness of those of a small monkey. 

I thought as he sat there how impossible it would 
be from his appearance to determine either his 
age or his occupation. I could conceive of . him 
as an ecclesiastic, a lawyer, a tailor, or an actor. 
But nothing about him suggested the mariner. 
It is a curious fact that in whatever line of life my 
fancy placed him, I pictured him at the head of it 
as a cardinal, a Lord Chancellor, or a Scotch 
comedian. Yet he had been apparently an indif¬ 
ferent success as an adventurer. I thought of the 
bishop's dictum—“ Want of opportunity," and 
wondered if the Astarte was destined to give this 
man his belated chance ? 

He was at all events physically hard and well- 


58 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

conditioned, evidently a man accustomed to self- 
control. As his appearance became gradually 
more familiar I found something strangely like¬ 
able in it. 

His conversation so far was evidently a thing 
of habit, a mechanical process like most people’s 
reading, quite unrelated to any cerebral process 
behind it. I began to wish that he would stop 
doing it and let us talk. 

Through the vision he had unwittingly called up 
in my mind of a frowsy bar-parlour with sea¬ 
faring men on horse-hair seats expectorating and 
drinking sherry, I heard the bishop apologising to 
Edmund for his presence. 

“ I did give your brother a chance of putting me 
off,” he explained; “ but he was too kind to do it. 
We don’t often meet, and he knows how I value 
these little escapes into his delightful bachelordom. 
Besides, he knew how much I wante^ to make 
your acquaintance.” 

“ It’s very kind of you to come in spite of us, 
my Lord,” said Edmund. “ I’m afraid we’ll be 
rather in the way of your Byzantine conversation.” 

“ From what your brother has told me, I should 
say you and Captain Welfare have more of the 
Byzantine spirit than either of us.” 

“ The worst of me is that I don’t eyen know 
what the Byzantine spirit is ! ” Edmund warned 
him. 

“ And we can only guess,” said the bishop. 
“ But they strove and fought, and they did make 
an Empire out of the ruins of an older one—even 
if they didn’t make a very good one.” 

“ I'm afraid,” said Edmund with a self-conscious 
smile, “ Welfare and I cannot pretend to be empire- 
builders. We’re only business men and sailors.” 


THE BISHOP PROPOSES A TOAST 59 

" Those are two of the essentials. But I don’t 
think it's empire builders we want. It’s empire 
repairers." 

Edmund waited when the bishop and Captain 
Welfare went to their rooms. 

“ Why on earth didn’t you put the bishop off ? " 
he asked a little irritably. 

"I’ve just heard Parminter explaining to you. 
Really it’s just as he said." 

“ That’s all very well. But you can see for 
yourself. Welfare is a very good partner for me 
to have. He’s all right on board ship. But one 
doesn’t exactly want to brandish him in the faces 
of one’s friends." 

" I think I shall like him. .And if he’ll only tell 
us about himself and his life, I’m sure he’ll be inter¬ 
esting." 

“ Are you going to charge the bishop something 
extra for seeing him fed ? " 

" My dear Edmund, when you know Parminter 
better, you’ll be as fond of him as I am. You 
will understand that his interest in both of us is a 
really brotherly feeling." 

“ Well, I wish he’d get it fixed in his head that 
we’re traders, fruit-merchants, out for a profit, and 
not go gassing about empire-building and cant." 

I saw now what was causing Edmund’s irritability. 
It was the consciousness, or at least the fear of 
becoming declasse. 

“ It’s not cant with Parminter," I said. “ He’s 
tremendously keen on meeting men out of the 
beaten track; men who live in an original way. 
And yours is an original way. I think he’s got 
an idea that this old country has got to be jerked 
out of its ruts by original men. Although he’s a 
bishop he has sort of lost faith in respectability." 


6 o A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 


“ By jove, I didn’t know a bishop could have so 
much sense ! ” 

“I’m afraid I haven’t expressed it quite right. 
But you’ll understand what I mean when you have 
seen more of him.’’ 

Edmund went upstairs mollified and quite cheer¬ 
ful, and I was able to congratulate myself on having 
restored the situation. For I was a little nervous 
about the success of my curiously assorted party. 

The bishop came down in full episcopal evening 
splendour, silk stockings, silver buckles, and purple 
coat. 

“ The admirable Bates evidently considered these 
things necessary,” he said, looking down with a 
sigh. “He left me no alternative.” 

“ Bates has doubtless scented a nonconformist 
in'Captain Welfare. He would be jealous of the 
dignity of the church in such company.” 

“ For myself,” said the bishop, “ I would have 
inclined to any little concession that might soften 
the dissenter’s preconceived idea of the arrogance 
of the episcopacy. But Bates's instinct is probably 
right.” 

“ It always is,” I said, and then Welfare came in. 

His evening raiment was quite correct and good 
and gave his heavy face an air almost of distinction. 
His only marked peculiarity was a brilliant red 
silk handkerchief folded inside his waistcoat, and 
showing for about an inch above its opening. I 
thought it quite an effective patch of colour. 

The bishop told me afterwards that it was con¬ 
sidered quite essential among the numerous class who 
had recently adopted the evening dress of civilisa¬ 
tion as a ceremonial costume. 

“In the north of England,” he said, “parlia¬ 
mentary candidates have to display this red badge 


THE BISHOP PROPOSES A TOAST 61 

at mayoral receptions and such functions, what¬ 
ever their political colour may be. I have never 
heard of anyone wearing a blue one.” 

Bates's instinct had not been at fault, and it was 
clear that Captain Welfare was gratified by the 
bishop’s apparel. He seemed at first a little op¬ 
pressed by the ritual of dinner. Not that there 
was anything unbecoming to a country vicar about 
my table. 

But when I reflected how much the element of 
squalor must have entered into his life, how little 
he must have seen of the routine of a comfortable 
English home, I understood that my inherited 
plate and glass, the damask which was Mrs. Rat¬ 
tray’s tender care, the arrangement of flowers in 
which my gardener gratified his pride, the shaded 
candles, and the quiet, sympathetic ministrations 
of Bates and a parlour-maid, must all seem 
unfamiliar, even grandiose, to Captain Welfare. 
He seemed subdued and impressed, watchful but 
happy. 

Edmund had been telling us of the beauties and 
the discomforts of the Eastern Mediterranean. 

“ I suppose,” said the bishop, “ you will events 
ally be running quite a fleet of boats as your 
business extends ? ” 

Edmund looked across to Welfare as though 
doubtful how to reply. 

” No, my Lord,” said Welfare. “ It wouldn’t 
pay to extend. It’s too personal a business. We’ve 
only had the Astarte a little more than a year, 
but she’s paid for herself, for a new suit of sails, 
and a new copper-bottom. Now it’s all profit and 
I don’t mind saying she's making us a big percen¬ 
tage. But another boat without us aboard wouldn't 
do it. It’s knowing the trade and knowing the 


62 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

natives and working your boat yourself. And of 
course there’s side issues to the trade. This 
Brighton business we’re starting is one. I guess 
we’ll make enough to retire on out of the Astarte .” 

“ Do you think you’ll want to retire ? ” asked the 
bishop. 

Captain Welfare looked at him with a puzzled 
expression in his wistful eyes. 

“ Well,” he said, “ what’s one in business for ? ” 

“ Surely not merely to get out of it ? It's a 
dangerous thing to retire, Captain Welfare. I’ve 
seen a lot of men in the Services retired under the 
sixty-three years rule. They’ve been active, use¬ 
ful, young-seeming men, keenly looking forward 
to enjoying their pensions. But, when it’s come, 
they’ve grown old and boring all at once, simply 
tumbled headlong into old age, and very often 
they’ve died in a year or two. You won’t want to 
retire, will you, Davoren ? ” 

“ Oh, I should simply knock about in some other 
part of the sea,” said Edmund. 

“ I don’t know how it may look to gentlemen 
waiting for pensions,” Captain Welfare remarked 
with deliberation. ” They’re gentlemen all the 
time. But it’s different in business. I don’t see 
how a man can help wanting to make his bit and 
get out of it. I hope you gentlemen won’t think 
the worse of me when I tell you my father was a 
man who got his living in his shirt sleeves.” 

The bishop and I made appreciative noises. 
Edmund emptied his glass and threw a savage 
but quite ineffectual look at his partner. 

“ Yes. He had a dry-salter's business in a small 
town in Lancashire. He always said he looked 
forward to putting on his coat for the last time and 
being a gentleman. He had his eye on a little house 


THE BISHOP PROPOSES A TOAST 63 

in Southport with two bay windows. He never 
managed it; poor man. It was partly my fault. 
I never took to the business and didn't give him 
the help he had a right to expect. I was considered 
bright at school too, and the lessons were no trouble 
to me, but I couldn't see any use in the things I 
learned, or in the dry-salting. So I got aboard a 
ship at Liverpool, as boy. It upset the old man 
a good deal, but it didn’t break his heart. It was 
kidney-trouble carried him off." 

“ By the way, I’ve often wondered what a dry- 
salter is ? " said the bishop. 

“ Well, I don’t rightly know. I'm not sure if 
anyone does nowadays. I think it's an old-fashioned 
sort of name. Father sold Epsom salts, and sul¬ 
phur and things, wholesale to the druggists, but 
he sold paint and turps and varnish and paraffin 
and patent medicines. Oh, and soap and candles 
and brushes. I think a dry-salter can sell pretty 
well anything he has a mind to." 

“ Well, of course these things must be distributed," 
the bishop said. “ It’s useful necessary work. 
But I can understand a man not wanting to go 
on doing it all his life. And yet we're all of us 
better, and look better, in our shirt-sleeves." 

Captain Welfare looked sceptically at the bishop, 
as though he feared he were being mocked. 1 
had a horrible fear that he might attempt some 
sarcasm about lawn sleeves. But if he thought 
of it his manners were too good to permit him to 
utter it. 

“ What I mean is that there ought to be more 
in life, for all of us, than merely * making a living,’ 
and waiting for death in more or less discomfort." 

“ There’s preparing for the next world, my Lord," 
Welfare said solemnly. 


64 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

The bishop looked suspicious at once. 

“ I didn't mean anything of that sort/' he said. 
“I'm afraid I don’t understand.” 

“ Well, I suppose a man has a better chance of 
making his peace with his Creator when he's out 
of business and—and isn’t distracted like.” 

“ No, I don’t see that. I cannot anyhow think 
of the Creator as condescending to be at war with 
his creature, or conceive of Almighty God deriving 
any gratification from the worship of people who 
have nothing else to do.” 

“ Of course it’s not for me to argue with your 
Lordship. I was brought up Chapel, and learned 
to stick to the Good Old Book.” 

“ Have a walnut, Welfare,” said Edmund pushing 
a dish across to him. 

Of course I had known he was hating the conver¬ 
sation, but there had been no chance to intervene. 
Parminter had an intense curiosity about the religious 
ideas of laymen, and I knew that to him it would 
be an irresistible temptation to dredge in the mind 
of so unfamiliar a specimen as Captain Welfare. 
I too would have enjoyed it but that I knew Ed¬ 
mund's sensitiveness would revolt at the idea of 
his partner being regarded as on exhibition. He 
wanted to be loyal to Welfare, to have him, as it 
were, accepted, without having his peculiarities 
emphasised. 

On the whole I hoped Edmund’s intervention 
would be successful, and seconded his effort by 
starting the port on its second journey round the 
table. 

Just then the hollow thud and ring of the hammer 
on soft iron and anvil was distinctly heard from 
beneath the floor and diverted the thoughts of us 
all. 


THE BISHOP PROPOSES A TOAST 65 

Captain Welfare looked almost startled, and 
then glanced enquiringly at Edmund. 

“ Somebody’s getting his horse shod out of 
hours,” said the bishop. “ The sound seems plainer 
than ever to-night. Have you heard it before, 
Captain Welfare ? ” 

“ No, my Lord. Mr. Davoren was just telling 
me something about it-when you came up.” 

“ Edmund has been exploring and opening up the 
fabled passage, which proves .to be quite genuine.” 

“ Really ? What did you find, Mr. Davoren ? ” 

“Oh, the passage is all right. Bates and I only 
shifted some rubbish in places and shored up the 
roof here and there. There’s a good sound passage 
with a vaulted roof right down to the beach.” 

" And you think it was really a smugglers’ 
passage ? ” 

I explained my theory of its Saxon origin. 

“ It should be quite an important find. You 
must have old Smith and some other experts down.” 

“ Some day,” I said, “ but we’re keeping it to 
ourselves for a bit.” 

“ I see,” said the bishop. “ Yes. Those anti¬ 
quarians are a hungry horde, Davoren.” 

“ They would probably dig up the whole of my 
lawn, and undermine the foundations of the poor 
old house.” 

“ Quite true. I understand your feelings. I 
shall keep your secret.” 

Captain Welfare had watched us thoughtfully 
during the discussion, and I thought he seemed 
relieved at my decision. 

“ Your brother tells me you .think of having a 
cruise in the Astarte, sir ? ” he said abruptly. 

“ I should like it immensely, some day when I 
can get away.” 


E 


66 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

“ Well, we've some business in Guernsey before 
we go back East. I thought of making the trip as 
soon as we’ve fixed up the Brighton business and 
put in our manager there. In about a fortnight, 
I hope." 

"You go, Davoren," said the bishop, " you'll 
be quite in time to see the bulbs at their best. And 
I’ve just the man to take your duty. One of my 
unfortunate out-of-work clergy depending on guineas 
for Sunday duty. A few weeks here would do 
him no end of good, and he’s perfectly civilised 
and harmless." 

“ I reckon that about settles it," said Captain 
Welfare. 

“ I only wish I could go too," said the bishop. 

Captain Welfare’s countenance exhibited a sud¬ 
den astonishment, which faded into the pain of a 
hospitable man compelled to withhold an im¬ 
possible invitation. 

“ That would be a great honour, my Lord. But 
I’m afraid—our accommodation-" 

“ Oh ! I'm sure that would be all and more than 
I desire or deserve. But don't worry. I could 
no more get away than fly." 

Welfare tried to hide his obvious relief in a long 
sip of his port. 

" I don’t drink port as a rule," said the bishop, 
“ but you must allow me one glass, Davoren, for 
a toast—Success to the Astarte ." 

I was astounded at a look of horror in Captain 
Welfare’s face, as if he had witnessed an act of 
sacrilege. 

Edmund gave a cynical laugh as he raised his 
glass. 

" The Astarte ” said I, as I emptied mine, and 
rose to return to the study. 



CHAPTER IV 


I SAIL IN THE A ST ARTE 

W E all went to bed early that night, but 
before we went there was a good deal 
of talk about my holiday on the 

Astarte. 

Captain Welfare seemed keen on my going. 
Edmund kept himself curiously aloof from the 
conversation. 

I had the idea that he wanted to dispose of 
the business side of the matter first. I was deter¬ 
mined to become, if possible, a part owner of the 
Astarte, and all the enterprise associated with 
her. But it was impossible to discuss actual 
business until the three of us were alone. 

The bishop was innocently emphatic on the 
subject of my voyage. 

He insisted that I wanted a " change," and 
that the longer I stopped away the better for 
his starveling protege', who was to occupy my 
house, and preach sermons in my absence. 

So the subject was bandied about until we came 
down to details, and I began to realise that I was 
really going to sail with them. 

A fortnight's yachting is no great enterprise; 
but I had somehow a kind of reluctance. I think 
this was determined by Edmund's aloofness. He 
had been, I thought, a little “ queer" all the 

67 


68 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

evening, and I had a feeling that he did not want 
me to start. 

But Captain Welfare was pressing in his invita¬ 
tion, and the bishop, in his kindness for me, backed 
him up. 

So before we parted, the rather hazy project 
had become a definite plan, and I had promised 
to send the bishop due notice of the date when 
I should be ready for my locum tenens. 

“ Remember," he said as he bade’ good-bye the 
next morning, “ if you’re away six months it 
will be all the better for poor Snape. Much as I 
shall miss you personally, I give you indefinite 
leave." 

During the next fortnight Captain Welfare 
and Edmund were much away on business. The 
furnishing of the shop was completed, and the 
stock brought down from London. 

A young Jew was installed as manager. He 
was sleek and ingratiating in his manner. I tried 
my hardest to persuade myself that I liked him, 
upbraiding myself for insular prejudices. 

However, Captain Welfare vouched for his integrity 
and knowledge of the business. He had been 
born and bred in the Levant, he said, and was 
an expert in Oriental bric-a-brac. I was compelled 
to admit, when I saw our emporium as arrayed 
by him, that he had much of the artistic instinct 
of his race. 

There was in the small window only a single 
very beautiful Shiraz rug, which hid the interior 
of the shop, and formed a background for a couple 
of brass and copper vases inlaid with hammered 
silver. 

Inside, the polished floor was covered with a 
few more Shiraz and Khorassan rugs. There was 


I SAIL IN THE ASTARTE 69 

a large screen and some chairs of mesbarabieh 
work. Small electric lights, hidden in imitation 
mosque lamps of Egyptian brasswork, depending 
from the ceiling, lit the room with a mysterious 
glow. In the background a couple of luxurious 
couches flanked a low table ‘whose top was formed 
of an immense brass tray. Here Turkish coffee 
and cigarettes were always ready for visitors, whether 
purchasing or not. On shelves around the sides, 
the dim light was reflected in stray gleams from 
brass and copper-ware and pottery, and faintly 
lit up silks and embroidery, and a museum of 
native work, curios, and “ anticas ” from all the 
countries of the East. 

“ It’s not in the least like a shop/' I said with 
an involuntary note of relief, as I sipped a cup 
of excellent though syrupy coffee. 

“ It’s like an Eastern Shop/’ Edmund explained. 
" And we’re going to run it on Eastern lines, bar¬ 
gaining, coffee, and a bit of rubbish as “ bakshish,” 
and all.” 

“ There is very much money in that, sir,” said 
the Barber’s Block, so I had mentally christened 
our Hebrew manager. He had the delicate beauty 
of one of those waxen heads on which hair-dressers 
sometimes exhibit their wigs, and his teeth reminded 
me of those lovely designs in pearl and coral that 
one sees displayed in glass cases outside the doors 
of the humbler kind of dentists. 

He had his own atmosphere too, like a perfumed 
asteroid. He revolted me, and I knew that there 
was something subtly, disgustingly attractive about 
him. 

“ We ask one pound,” he continued, “ for some¬ 
thing we can sell for eight-and-six and have our 
profit, and very often we get twelve or fifteen 


70 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

shillings, and the customer is more pleased than 
h we ask eight-and-six, and he pays it. So we 
give him some little thing, ‘ bakshish,’ and almost 
always he buys something more.” 

This account of our business methods was 
extremely disagreeable to me and I remarked: 

“ I think it’s a rotten way of doing business.” 

" It is always so in the East.” 

His air of imperturbable finality made me feel 
merely foolish and fussy. I realised he had dignity 
in his way. 

" He’s quite right,” Edmund agreed, “ we’ve 
got to make this a little bit of the East. After 
all, throwing in the customs is one way of giving 
people the genuine article. They get a whiff of 
Cairo along with their purchase, and it’s well worth 
the money.” 

“ Well, I want to be the first customer anyhow. 
How much is this ? ” I asked, picking up a little 
Japanese netsuk£ in dusky ivory. 

‘ That one I can sell for ten shillings and make 
a profit. This one I lose if I sell for thirty shillings.” 

“ But I like this one best.” 

" No, it is not so good. See, it has not the 
signature of the artist. But it is here on this 
one.” 

He pointed out some minute Japanese writing 
cut in a tiny square. 

“ Never buy any work of a Japanese artist 
without the signature. He signs only what is 
best—perfect.” 

“ All the same,” I said, “ I’ll take this cheap 
one for luck and because I like it.” 

He smiled as he gave me the change. 

“ I would have sold the pair for four guineas,” 
he said. 


I SAIL IN THE ASTARTE 


7i 


Edmund laughed. 

“ I think our friend Iscariot will manage very 
well for us/’ he whispered. 

He never called him anything else, and Mr. 
Schultz appeared to have no objection to his nick¬ 
name. 

During this period I learned an extraordinary 
number of things about some of the practical 
commercial affairs of life, and I was surprised 
and somewhat gratified at the energy and capacity 
displayed by Captain Welfare, and indeed by 
Edmund too. 

It was soon evident that the shop was going to 
be a paying concern. In the slang of the day 
“ it caught on.” I had always had a general 
idea that shop-keepers made very large sums of 
money except when they failed altogether, but I 
never could understand how they did it. It seemed 
to me that if they sold expensive things their 
customers were too few, and if they sold cheap 
things their profits must be too small to afford 
them a comfortable interest on their capital. I 
do not understand this yet, except in the case of 
people like butchers, and publicans, and very 
large shops that are crowded with people all day. 

But when I learned what our “ takings,” as 
they called them, amounted to on the first day, 
my fear was that the whole stock would disappear 
in a week. But Captain Welfare assured me we 
could double our sales and carry on till long after 
the arrival of our next consignment from the East. 

I asked him if he was quite satisfied to leave 
everything in the hands of Mr. Schultz. 

“ Oh yes. We’ve given him sufficient interest 
in the business to keep him straight. We shall 
take stock twice a year, so he could only swindle 


72 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

us for six months in any case. It will pay him 
better to be honest. Oh yes ! he has plenty of 
good reasons for playing fair with me. I’ve done 
business with him since he was a nipper with bare 
legs doing conjuring tricks on the foot-walks of 
Port Said.” 

“You think he is grateful ? ” 

" No, I don’t. He's a low-class Jew. But he’ll 
not run any rigs with me for the present.” 

I dropped the subject, which was one I did not 
care to dwell on in any case. 

We had come to a general agreement as to the 
terms on which I was to become a partner, and 
my lawyer came down to take my instructions 
and prepare the necessary deed. 

Marshall was a personal friend of mine and I 
never transacted any business except through him, 
with the exception of the matters that were naturally 
in the hands of my agents in Ireland. 

He had, I knew, a considerable affection for 
me, and respected my literary work as beseeming 
a man in my position. But he detested my pigeons, 
and always disapproved of any suggestions of mine 
concerning my own property. He had always 
disapproved too of Edmund, whom he had never 
met. 

“ Put him on an allowance and stick to it,” 
he always said. 

It was in vain that I explained that Edmund 
refused an allowance. This only made Marshall 
snort. 

I dreaded intensely telling him of my present 
proposals. 

He listened to my story in absolute silence, 
which made me more and more nervous as I went 
on. 


I SAIL IN THE AST ARTE 73 

His lips stuck out in an unpleasant way which 
reminded me of the Psalmist’s description of those 
hateful people who used to say “ tush ” to the godly. 

My account of the enterprise began to seem 
unconvincing even to myself as it had never done 
before, and the narrative tailed off on a note of 
apology, which for the life of me I could not keep 
out of it. 

“ That’s all you know about the business ? ” he 
asked. 

“ Yes. I think so.” 

“ My dear Davoren, you’ve wasted my time 
and your own money bringing me down here.” 

“I’m sorry ; but why ? ” 

“You don’t want a lawyer, you want a doctor.” 

“ Oh ! no thanks. I don’t care about doctors 
while I’m well. They talk shop and smell of 
iodoform, or whatever they call the stuff.” 

“You want a mental specialist, what they 
call an alienist.” 

“ I’ve always wondered why they call them 
that ? ” 

“You can look it up in the dictionary. But 
that’s not the point. You must consult one. 
You’re ill.” 

“ Oh ? I hadn’t noticed it. Bates hasn’t said 
anything about it.” 

“ I presume you have not informed Bates that 
you propose to embark not only your capital, 
but your self, on a rickety old Levantine schooner 
with a crew of cut-throat niggers, a young scape¬ 
grace of a brother, and some kind of a sea-captain, 
about whom you know nothing whatever, except 
that he has spent his life trying to pick up a 
precarious living among all sorts of dagoes in the 
East.” 


74 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

“ Edmund is a pretty good judge of a boat, you 
know, and if she has come here from the Mediter¬ 
ranean she ought to be able to take me to the 
Channel Islands and back." 

Marshall only snorted in the way that I parti¬ 
cularly loathed. 

“ Anyhow," I continued, “ my taking a trip for 
pleasure is no part of the business. It does not 
come into the agreement. As for the money, 
you know I should not be ruined by the loss of a 
couple of thousand pounds, though I don’t want to 
lose it, and I don’t believe I shall. I'm doing it to 
help Edmund." 

“ Well, I won’t draft any such damned agree¬ 
ment ! " 

"I’m sorry. I shall have to get somebody 
in Brighton. Who is the best solicitor there ? " 

" I had better recommend you to the worst, I 
think. But, seriously, Davoren, are you going on 
with this ? " 

" Certainly I am. I’ve promised." 

" Well, in that case 1 hac better protect you 
to the best of my ability." 

I was immensely gratified to find I had won a 
victory at such a comparatively small cost to my 
self-respect. 

Marshall went to my desk and began to write 
hurriedly, and very soon " This Indenture Witnessed 
that Whereas &c." I made a transitory appearance 
in the document under my proper name and title, 
being " herein-after known" as something else, 
as which I should never have recognised myself. 
I had always a difficulty in understanding this 
kind of composition, and Marshall’s essay was 
no exception to the rule. But 1 gathered that 
the payment to me of five per cent, on my capital 


I SAIL IN THE AST ARTE 


•* 

J D 

was to be a first charge on the assets and profits 
of the concern, and was to be independent of any 
agreed share of such profits “ if and when accruing." 

There was another clause empowering me at any 
time to have all “ ships, vessels, premises, stock- 
in-trade, books, accounts," and various other 
things which might or might not be our property, 
examined, inspected, valued, and various other 
things done to them, by an accountant to be 
nominated by me, and who was to make me an 
account, and do all sorts of other arduous things 
which would have conveyed nothing whatever to me 

I protested against both these clauses ; against 
the first as showing avarice, and against the second 
as suggesting suspicion. 

“ I don’t think Captain Welfare would like 
it," I said. 

“ I don’t expect for a moment that he will," 
Marshall replied grimly, “ but they’re going in 
all the same. That’s what I am here for." 

I had gained so much of my own way that I 
did not care to contest the point. Besides, I 
reflected, I could explain to Edmund that I didn’t 
intend to act on either of them. 

When the drafts of the agreement came down 
for signature, however, Welfare took them quite 
as a matter of course and assured me he would 
have insisted on them himself. 

I wrote and told Marshall this, but he had con¬ 
ceived an inveterate prejudice against Welfare. 

We were now in the beginning of April, with the 
spring coining in like a Hood tide and all was 
ready for our start. Mr. Snape was coming to 
be introduced to the parish, and a boyish feeling 
of emancipation and excitement was making me 
feel rather absurd to myself. 


76 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

I wanted to go with them to Tilbury, sc as to 
have as much sailing as possible, but it appeared 
that there were objections to this. They agreed that 
the Astarte would want a lot of furbishing up before 
she was ready to receive a guest. 

“ I want you to see her at her best/' Edmund 
said. 

It was almost the first time he had spoken cordially 
about my going at all, so I readily gave up the 
point. 

“ What about Newhaven ? It’s the nearest 
port,” I said. 

“ Oh, Newhaven or Dover would be all right,” 
said Edmund. 

“ I’ll tell you what,” said Captain Welfare. 
" I’ve been looking at the beach down below here. 
It’s a nice handy cove for landing, and there’s 
soundings enough for the Astarte up to within a 
quarter mile of the shore. Why not let us lie to 
and take you off right here ? We’d save time 
and harbour dues, and economy’s the motto for the 
Astarte .” 

“ That’s an Ai idea, Welfare,” said Edmund. 

It appealed to me too in my new-born spring 
mood of adventure. I agreed at once. 

“ And we’ll have your kit taken down by the 
famous tunnel and so make some use of it.” 

Even my repugnance to the idea of that passage 
had vanished, and I consented to this arrange¬ 
ment also. It added a touch of mystery to the 
adventure. 

“ Talking of that passage,” said Captain Welfare, 
M we’d save railway freight if we brought the 
rest of the stuff for the shop along with us. If 
Mr. Davoren wouldn’t mind storing it till Schultz 
can fetch it ? ” 


I SAIL IN THE AST ARTE 


77 

“ Not a bit. It would be all right in the cellar, 
I suppose ? ” 

“ Oh, certainly. The men will carry it up the 
passage and store it till it can be fetched. It’ll 
save a lot of handling, as Schultz can have it all 
brought straight to the shop by road.” 

It all seemed to me a perfectly natural and 
convenient arrangement, and I remember laughingly 
stipulating with Edmund that he should drive 
away the bats before I ventured down the passage. 

They left the next day, expecting to be away 
about a week. 

I was to receive a post-card telling me as nearly 
as possible when the Astarte would fetch up. 

I was left alone with my locum tenens, Mr. 
Snape. I fear he found me an uneasy host. 

He was a terribly earnest young man, who had 
made himself ill by overworking and under-feeding 
in slum parishes. 

He was the kind of clergyman who is always 
described as a “ good organiser.” In certain circles 
this is the highest praise that can be bestowed 
on a clergyman. I never quite understood what 
it meant, or what these people organised. I 
always vaguely associated it with having printed 
tickets for things, and lists of names. 

He was very polite and agreeable, and even 
inclined to be deferential to me, I suppose regarding 
me as a man of comparative wealth, and possibly 
impressed by my position as a Justice of the Peace, 
a position that had been forced upon me, for which 
I was quite unfitted, and of which I certainly 
was not proud. I only supposed these were the 
reasons for his deference, because he had never 
heard of my historical researches, or of my reputa¬ 
tion as a pigeon-fancier. 


78 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

In spite of this, and without at all intending 
it, he made me feel that he was shocked. 

The modest comfort of my habits shocked his 
ascetic instinct. He was shocked by my not 
saying grace before dinner, and bowed his head 
and crossed himself in silence before he took his 
soup. I knew this would upset Bates, who is 
an Evangelical of rather strong views. If I had 
only thought of it, I would have said some ordinary 
sort of grace myself, which Bates would not have 
minded nearly so much. 

But it was worse when he began to question me 
about the “ parochial organisation/’ and dis¬ 
covered that there was no communicants’ guild, 
no G.F.S. (I had to think hard before I could remem¬ 
ber what a G.F.S. was), no lads’ brigade, no 
mothers’ union—none of the things he thought 
there ought to be. I had never before realised 
the utter nakedness of my parish in the parapher¬ 
nalia of organised soul-saving. 

Poor Snape, who was a gentleman, was more 
embarrassed than myself. 

“ Is there much debt on the church ? ” he asked 
after a pause. 

" Not a penny,” I said, brightening up, for 
the moderate debt that I had found I had myself 
paid off, and I thought our solvency at least was 
in our favour. 

But it was not so. Snape looked more than 
ever depressed. 

“ I have always found that a debt is such a 
stimulus to the laity,” he said mournfully. “ It 
unites them in organised efforts.” 

“ Yes, perhaps, in some places, but I’m afraid 
bazaars and things would never go well in Borrow- 
dean. People would not understand about getting 


I SAIL IN THE AST ARTE 


79 

them up, or know what to do with them. They 
have a great idea of getting value for their money/' 

“ But how do you work your parish, Mr. Davoren ? 
What do you do in it, without any of the usual 
methods ? " 

“Oh, I just—potter about. They don't behave 
badly as a rule, and I try to make them behave 
better. I’m always here if any of them want to 
see me, or want me to visit them. I don't think 
they'd care for a parson strolling into their houses 
as if he had a right to do so. Then there's the 
church. Our service is really restful and har¬ 
monious. And of course we have a Sunday School." 

“ Oh, of course." 

“ Then the publican is a tenant of mine and 
I insist on his selling honest liquor. I also try 
to stop fellows drinking too much of it." 

“ But do you think that the church should 
countenance the public-house ? " 

“ Oh yes 1 I think it’s most important to have 
our public-houses decent, respectable, civilised 
places. I often drop in to make sure all is well." 

“ 1 am afraid it would be impossible for me, 
as an abstainer, to do that," he cried, dissimulating 
his horror with difficulty. 

“ Of course. I should not advise you to try. 
But if I were to become an abstainer, not only 
should I dislike it very much myself, but nobody 
would behave any the better for my sacrifice. 
As it is, some of them do behave better for knowing 
that I may come in to their public-house for a 
chat and a glass of beer with them." 

I saw that Snape was not only puzzled but 
pained by the unfamiliarity of my views, so I 
hastened to change the subject. 

“ I think a country parson can really do a little 


8 o A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 


good for his flock by just living among them and 
not putting on side/’ I said. " One can help 
in various ways, material and other. I have 
been able, for instance, by a little timely financing 
to help a young couple to get married, and so 
have prevented an otherwise inevitable scandal.” 

“ But that sort of thing would be utterly impos¬ 
sible in a large industrial parish ! ” 

“ Of course it would. But this is a small country 
parish. It would have been impossible for me to 
do what I have said if I had not had some private 
means ; though of course the young people paid 
me back by degrees. But isn’t it possible that 
the methods which seem best in the populous 
parish may not be equally suitable in a little com¬ 
munity like this ? ” 

Without really meaning to, I had got the better 
of him in mere logic. I saw that he was distressed 
by feeling that my logic, though unanswerable, was 
wrong. It is a feeling I know well myself and hate. 

“ I daresay I am only defending my own laziness 
and incapacity, to myself as well as to you/' I 
continued. “ The fact is I don’t understand 
how to run these things. If you like, I shall be 
delighted if you inaugurate all the organisations 
you think necessary while I am away. Then 
perhaps you can teach me to keep them going 
when I return, if they seem to work well.” 

“ 1’rn afraid the time is too short,” he said 
regretfully. 

“ Well then, stop on as long as necessary—on 
the same terms, of course.” 

His look of gratitude was very affecting. Yet I 
regretted my hospitality; for though he com¬ 
manded my respect, he bored me terribly. I 
was not uneasy about his organisation, being 


8i 


I SAIL IN THE ASTARTE 

confident that not even Paul and Apollos could 
stimulate my Sussex parishioners to a " combined 
effort/' 

“ I must ask the bishop about it/’ Snape said. 

" Do/' I said, cravenly sure that Parminter 
would rescue me from the full consequences of my 
impulse. 

This was our only long conversation during the 
impatient days while I waited for Edmund’s post¬ 
card. 

A note came at last to say they were starting. 
I was to begin looking out for them on the afternoon 
following the day I received it. The time of their 
arrival of course depended on wind and tide. I 
had somehow forgotten to allow for this uncer¬ 
tainty in my anticipation, and now it added to 
my impatience. 

Bates packed up my things wistfully. He had 
pleaded hard to be taken, and I should have been 
glad to have him in many ways. But it appeared 
there was no possible accommodation for him 
on the Astarte. Besides, I had no one else to leave 
in charge of the pigeons and Snape. 

Bates had the imagination and sympathy which 
make the best kind of servant, and he conceived 
of me as something utterly helpless in his absence. 

I shook off Snape as soon as I could after lunch, 
and went up on the Downs where I could get a 
wide view of the Channel. 

There was a fresh topsail breeze from the east, 
a fair wind for the Astarte . I knew it had held 
steady for forty-eight hours. It was not unreason¬ 
able to expect that she would come up to time 
or ahead of it. 

I had an unreasoning desire to see her for which 
I could not account. But I had a feeling that 


F 


82 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 


something was going to intervene to prevent my 
sailing. When the idea had first been broached, 
it had been but a matter of a trip to me. Now 
it had somehow assumed an unwarranted impor¬ 
tance. My desire for the start filled me with 
senseless apprehensiveness. I was like a school¬ 
boy dreading rain on his holiday. 

I could not account for this mood in myself; 
it made me uneasy, and intensely intolerant of any 
society—especially Snape’s. 

There was a warm April sun glowing on the 
Downs, and glistening on the loose flints th- t 
everywhere pushed their way up through the 
chalk, and lay about among the short grass of the 
sheep-pastures. The Channel was a crisp blue 
under a shining sky, and the air was full of the 
infinitely soothing sound of the distant calling of 
sheep. 

Peace came over me as I lay watching for the 
expected sail, wondering what exotic form it 
would take, trying to picture the long bowsprit 
and the head-sails “ like a skein of geese ” that 
I had been told of. 

But the afternoon wore on and no sail came in 
sight, none at least that could be the Astarte. 

The wind grew cold as the sun dipped to its 
setting, and I rose with a little shiver to go home, 
calm but disillusioned. 

“No sign of Mr. Edmund ? ” I asked deceitfully 
of Bates. 

“ No, sir.” 

I felt that the moment had passed, that he 
would not now come at all, and that I should 
not set sail in the Astarte. 

But I did not want Bates to know I had been 
watching for her all afternoon. 


I SAIL IN THE AST ARTE 


83 

The sky had clouded over, and it was dark in 
my study when I heard Edmund's voice outside. 

I went out and met him coming from the pas¬ 
sage that led to the kitchen and cellars. He must 
have come up the tunnel. 

“ Hullo,” he said. “ Sorry I’m late. We were 
delayed starting and miscalculated the tide a 
bit. We expected to get the ebb sooner, how¬ 
ever it will be making nicely now. How are you ? 
How do you do, Mr. Snape ? ” 

“ Is the Astarte here ? ” I asked. 

“ Of course she is. We’re not mooring her, 
just keeping her lying-to till we get the stuff— 
the stock I mean—ashore and take you off. Are 
you quite ready ? ” 

“ Can’t you stop and dine ? ” 

“ Oh, just some soup and a snack, but we mustn’t 
be long. Just while the other boat comes ashore 
and we off-load her. Let’s get in to your fire. 
It’s cold on the water.” 

We went into the study and I switched on the 
lights. The rosy comfort of my room struck me 
with a kind of pang as I thought of leaving. 

“Thank you. Bates, just what I wanted,” said 
Edmund as Bates brought in a tray with decanter 
and syphon. 

He drank with a little shudder as though of 
cold, though he did not look cold, but ill at ease. 

Snape shuddered too as he watched him. . 

I knew that seeing a man drink a whisky-and- 
soda, unsanctified even by the presence of a meal, 
gave him a feeling of being in some unhallowed 
presence, and filled him with a desire to protest 
that was choked down only by his shyness. 

“ Get some dinner in at once, Bates,” I said, 
“ anything that’s ready.” 


84 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

“ Got all your traps ready ? ” 

“Yes. All strapped and waiting. I had almost 
given you up.” 

After a hasty meal we walked down by the road 
to the beach. Snape came with us, smiling vacu¬ 
ously as though he thought we were doing something 
comic, but couldn’t see the joke. 

“ The niggers can bring your kit down when 
they have stowed away the goods,” Edmund said. 

It would be long before the moon, nearing its 
last quarter, rose. The only light was from a 
pale border of sky in the west under the straight 
edge of the great cloud mass that had overspread 
the firmament. 

It had rained a little, and the roofs of cottages 
and loose stones on the beach gleamed feebly 
in the dark. 

The sea broke dully on the shore, each wave 
drawing away from the shingle with a regretful 
sound. A dark blotch on the edge with two 
motionless figures beside it was the dinghy. 

As my eyes grew accustomed to the faint light 
I could make out a dim nucleus of blackness against 
the dull pewter of the sea. This was all we could 
see of the Astarte. She looked a long way off in 
the gloom. 

Presently Edmund said, “ There comes the 
boat.” 

I could see nothing, but very soon I heard the 
double-knock of oars in rowlocks. Then a moving 
blackness became visible with pale flashes from the 
blades of the oars. 

The boat was much nearer than I had judged, 
for a few strokes brought her to the shore. 

Immediately a harsh guttural gabbling broke 
out among the crew, which was at once checked 


I SAIL IN THE AST ARTE 85 

by a gruff order from someone in the stem-sheets. 

Edmund hurried down to the boat, as her crew 
hauled the bow a few yards up on the beach. 

Snape and I followed him more slowly. We 
seemed to be forgotten in the silent bustle that 
was taking place. 

I could just make out the lines of an able, roomy 
ship’s boat, and I was a good deal surprised at 
the amount of cargo she had brought ashore. Case 
after case was being handed out and stacked on 
the beach. They looked like good-sized packing- 
cases, and the men handled them as though they 
were fairly heavy. 

However, the crew of six had them out in about 
a minute, and then each man shouldered a case 
with surprising dexterity and they started in a 
group stumbling up the b^ach under their loads. 

In the darkness I could just make out that 
some of the men had loose Turkish trousers and 
some wore the long robe or galabieh of the Arab. 
Their faces were invisible in the dusk, except for 
glints of white from eyes and teeth, and most of 
them seemed to have a white handkerchief or 
turban bound round their heads. 

Edmund and the man who had been in the stern- 
sheets were talking aside in low tones, and now 
they guided the laden men to the rough path in 
the cliff leading to the tunnel. 

Snape and I followed, fascinated by this strange, 
impossible invasion of our quiet Sussex cove. 

“ It is quite like the old days of the smugglers ! ” 
giggled Snape. 

It irritated me to feel that he had no sense of 
the real eerie strangeness and mystery of the scene, 
and I wished I were alone. 

I heard Edmund’s voice, almost unrecognisable 


86 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 


in the harsh gutturals of Arabic, giving directions, 
as I guessed, about getting up the path. Then 
someone slipped and I heard the quick swish 
of a whip, the thud of its lash on flesh, and a growl 
like that of a wounded beast. 

I drew in my breath with a little gasp and a 
throb of the heart, wondering if Edmund had 
struck the blow. 

It seemed a horrible and hideous thing to me then. 

The two men who had been with the dinghy 
now passed us also bearing loads, and three of the 
first party came back for others. Edmund and 
the rest had evidently gone on up the tunnel to my 
cellar. 

It was strange to me to think of these wild-looking 
creatures even in the cellar of my peaceful home, 
and I wondered what Bates would think of them. 
I sincerely hoped that Mrs. Rattray would keep 
out of their way. 

I knew how utterly she would disapprove of 
them, and feared I should sink in her estimation 
by such an association. 

And Mrs. Rattray’s good opinion was very precious 
to me. 

In an incredibly short time all the cases had 
disappeared and the men were back with my 
luggage. 

Bates came to see me off, bringing some things 
he had thought of at the last moment as likely 
to add to my comfort. 

“ Is everything all right, Bates ? ” 

“ Yes, sir. Everything stowed away quite 
right.” 

“ What do you think of the crew ? ” 

" Well, sir, I didn’t see much of them. But 
I hope you'll keep your things locked up.” 


I SAIL IN THE . 1 STARTE 


*7 

“ You think they’re thieves ? ” 

" Well, I believe those sort of low-class foreigners 
mostly are, sir.” 

As we were getting into the boat Snape asked 
which I thought would be the best evening for the 
G.F.S ? 

" I don’t know,” I said firmly, “ ask Miss Gregson 
at the post-office.” 

I don’t know what put Miss Gregson into my 
head, but as the Arabs rowed us through the night 
with a strange grunt at each stroke, I felt the 
Girls' Friendly Society was very remote. 

Edmund remained silent, and it seemed to me 
there had been an air of silence and speed about 
the whole proceeding that was puzzling. I regretted 
it because it touk away from my feeling of holiday 
exhilaration. 

“ You had quite a big cargo,” I said. 

” Must keep up the stock, you know.” 

“ Of course. I didn’t know you had so much 
in reserve. How quickly these fellows handled 
it. They’re very smart.” 

“ They’ve got to be smart when Jakoub is around,” 
said Edmund grimly. 

I guessed that the silent native who sat with us 
in the stern was Jakoub, and remembered Edmund’s 
description of him. 

I hoped it had been he who had used the whip. 

“ Here we are,” said lYJmund, as the Astarte 
suddenly became distinct and closer to us. 

Someone fixed the port light in its bracket. 
There was no other light on deck, but a glow came 
through the skylights covering the saloon, and 
shone upwards along the tall pointed mainsail. 

The boat was brought alongside, a short ladder 
slung from the side and, as I put my foot on it, a 


88 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 


hand grasped mine and Captain Welfare said, 
“ Welcome to the Astarte, sir.” 

’ I thanked him and came aboard, followed by 
Edmund and the crew. At the same time the 
dinghy came alongside and was made fast. 

There was a gruff order “ Esta’ad,” followed by 
other words in Arabic which had the curious effect 
of fierceness to which the language lends itself. 
There was a rattle as sheets were hauled down 
and belayed and, with the two boats still in tow, 
the Astarte was on the wind and gathering way. 

My heart leaped to the glorious sensation. 

“ We’re off! ” I exclaimed in surprise. 

“Yes. We don’t want to miss any of this 
tide,” said Captain Welfare. “ But it’s no good 
standing here in the cold and dark. Come down 
to the saloon and have a look at your cabin. Get 
those boats aboard, Jakoub.” 


CHAPTER V 


WHAT THE LITTLE STEAMER BROUGHT 

I T was clearly impossible for me to make the 
real acquaintance of the Astarte that night 
and, as it was certainly raw and cold on 
deck in the dark, I gladly followed Captain Welfare 
down the companion to the saloon. 

Here I found a most unexpected scene of comfort 
and civilisation. Most of my limited experience 
of yachting had been gained in small boats, and 
I had foolishly modelled my anticipation of the 
Astarte on my recollections of these. So I was 
surprised at the width and spaciousness I found. 

A powerful lamp deeply shaded in red and 
suspended from the skylight lit up the table, which 
was laid for some sort of late evening meal. There 
were deep red tulips in vases, and a pleasant gleam 
of silver and cut glass on the white cloth. The 
chairs, of course, were of the marine type, fixed in 
the floor with revolving seats. 

Over the lockers along each side were deep 
luxurious seats, upholstered in dull red morocco, 
and over these, between the wide port-holes, 
each panel was filled with a pictorial tile of Delft 
ware, with a singularly clean and restful decorative 
effect of blues and browns. The further bulkhead 
on either side of the narrow door leading for’ard 
was filled with book-cases.’ A soft Persian carpet 

S9 


90 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

and the curving sides of the ship, the cunning 
shelves and cupboards that occupied odd corners, 
all combined to produce that air of cosiness that 
can be found nowhere in such perfection as in a 
ship’s cabin. 

Captain Welfare was openly delighted by my 
praises of all these arrangements. There was 
something comical though pathetic in his anxiety 
for my approval. In fact I began to fear that 
his apologetic attitude would become a little weari¬ 
some if he persisted in it. 

Thus he apologised for the leather upholstering 
and entered into a long explanation of the reasons 
for the absence of velvet. It was in vain that I 
assured him with the utmost sincerity that I greatly 
preferred leather. He simply did not listen. It 
was evident that he himself considered that red 
velvet cushions would have done me more honour, 
and really deplored their absence. My protesta¬ 
tions he regarded as mere politeness, and he was 
concerned only in his own explanations. In the same 
spirit he kept apologising for the absence of many 
things which I should have loathed had they been 
there. 

My cabin had been newly furnished throughout, 
and I found something very touching in the almost 
ladylike care which had been spent upon it. 

I had for some time realised that, as Edmund 
had said he would, Captain Welfare regarded me 
as a ‘'swell”; and simply because I was quite 
unconscious of being anything of the sort, he had 
conceived a queer kind of devotion to me. 

Like the great majority of mankind, both Welfare 
and Edmund were pleasantest when acting as host. 
Especially Edmund, because his pride in the ship 
was gratified by my real pleasure in it, and he was 


WHAT THE STEAMER BROUGHT 91 

/ 

of course free from that well-meant but fussy 
solicitude that is so common in hosts and so very 
wearing for the guest. 

After our early and hurried meal the supper 
on board was most acceptable. 

The Astarte was footing pleasantly before the fair 
wind with very little motion, and as we chatted in 
the warm light of the saloon I felt that my holiday 
was going to be a great success. 

“ When do you expect to reach Guernsey ? ” I 
asked. 

“ If this breeze holds we shall be there the morn¬ 
ing after to-morrow at latest,” said Captain Wel¬ 
fare. “ But we can't count on it this time of year. 
It may fall calm any minute. Then it will be a 
matter of luck with the tides and what bits of 
wind we can catch.’’ 

“ I’m in no hurry,” I said with a sense of luxur-. 
ious freedom, " I rather hope we shall be delayed.” 

“ Well, we’ll be a few days in Guernsey anyhow, 
and then I want to go on to Jersey. 1 hope that 
will be quite convenient to you, Mr. Davoren ? ” 

“ I shall be delighted. If you call at Alderney 
and Sark and all the rest of them, it will be all right 
to me ! ” 

" I’ve heard from my correspondent in Jersey,” 
said Captain Welfare with a little grandiloquence, 
“of a bit of cargo there we might as well bring 
back. It will help to pay our expenses.” 

" That’s delightful. The touch of business takes 
away all the sense of futility one usually has on a 
yacht.” 

“ Yes,” said Edmund, “ going to look at places 
and photograph them simply because everyone 
else has labelled them pretty, or picturesque, or 
interesting or something. That kind of yachtsman 


92 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

is only an expensive kind of tripper after all.” 

“ Eve had good times on a yacht too, I must 
admit,” I said with a retrospective sigh. 

“ And I never have,” said Edmund with sudden 
bitterness. " I've had to watch other people, ladies 
and asses in white flannels, floating into a harbour 
on some millionaire cheesemonger’s iooo-tonner, 
while I’ve stood, black to the eyes, watching the 
dagoes coal ship, or punching niggers on some 
bit of a trading scow. It’s simply a case of ' sour 
grapes ’ with me, old man ! ” 

He ended with a laugh that grated on me. It 
was a cynical laugh, very unlike the Edmund of 
old, and yet, I felt, typical of much that I had 
noticed in his bearing since he had been home this 
time. I did not like to think of him having been 
driven to envy mere prosperous, idle people ; and 
I was sure there was something deeper in his resent- 
ment than common jealousy of idleness and wealth. 
The bishop’s words came back to me with painful 
force—“ There is nothing worse for a gentleman 
than to be declasse.” And with this there re¬ 
curred my old wonder, what it was that Edmund 
had “ surrendered ” ? 

“ I don’t think you need envy anybody while 
you’re on the Astarte” I said quietly. 

“ Oh! 1 haven’t a word to say against the 

Astarte,” Edmund admitted. 

Captain Welfare leaned back with a sigh of 
relief. He had watched Edmund anxiously during 
his momentary discontent. Indeed I had noticed 
that he often seemed uneasy when Edmund ex¬ 
pressed any dissatisfaction, as though some restraint 
were needed to keep him in the partnership. I 
attributed this merely to the want of steadfastness 
I knew so well in Edmund. 


WHAT THE STEAMER BROUGHT 93 

" Of course/' he said, as if in explanation, “ we've 
not always been on the Astarte. We had some 
rough times before we got her, as you know, sir. 
But if things go as well as they’re doing for another 
three years, you’ll be able to have your own yacht, 
Mr. Edmund, and bother no more about cargoes." 

“ I shan’t want it then. Once I’m independent of 
trade, I shall want to stick to it." 

This was of course unintelligible to Captain Wel¬ 
fare, with his ideal of “ retiring " ; but I under¬ 
stood perfectly. I said to myself, “The bishop 
was right. Edmund must have some service to 
perform as soon as possible." 

A tremendous sleepiness came upon me, and early 
as it was I said good-night and turned in 

I was on deck betimes next morning and found 
the sun well up in a clear blue April morning sky. 
The Astarte was foaming along very gaily with free 
sheets, two big square sails set on her fore-mast 
and all her head-sails drawing. There was a fair 
amount of following sea from which she lifted her 
short counter with exhilarating buoyancy. 

She struck me as bigger and more of a ship than 
I had expected. The bulwarks round the after¬ 
deck were nearly breast high, as she had a great 
deal of free-board for her size. There was a kind 
of short waist amidships, covering the hold, and 
a small deck over the fo’c’sle. Her slightly raking 
masts and leg-o’-mutton sails looked a tremendous 
height from the deck, and the whole boat seemed 
to taper away to the great sloping bow-sprit with 
its flight of jibs. I thought what a weird-looking 
craft she must be from outside. But I realised 
that her lines, though strange, must be beautiful. 

Her decks were holystoned and scrubbed to the 
whiteness of paper, and the thin lines of caulking 


94 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

between the planks had the polish of jet. The 
inside of the bulwarks and other parts were newly 
painted in green and white, and the mahogany 
and brass of the sky-lights, the wheel and binnacle, 
all shone with the lustre of well-tended furniture. 

Two or three of the crew were busy about the deck. 

Their bare legs, shining like brown silk stockings, 
their bright, exotic costumes, and dark faces with 
teeth flashing as they grinned and chattered at 
their work, gave me a queer feeling of having been 
transported in my sleep to the unknown East. 

One of them was a thin, delicate creature with a 
skin of the colour and polish of black-lead—a 
Soudanese as I afterwards learned. 

The wheel was a little abaft of the saloon com¬ 
panion. It was in charge of a tall, gracefully 
built Arab in a handsome blue linen galabieh. 
As we were practically before the wind there was 
little strain on the wheel, which he handled delicately 
and instinctively with one hand. The soft fez 
at the back of his head was bound with the green 
of a descendant of the Prophet. His lean brown 
face had an essential air of aristocracy and command 
in its repose. Only his accipitrine eyes seemed 
alert, intent on everything from the horizon to the 
details of the work of the man nearest to him. 
He reminded me irresistibly of a half-tamed falcon 
on a perch. 

I guessed this must be Jakoub, who had sat 
next us in the boat, but whom I could not be said 
to have seen, and to whom I had not yet spoken. 

“ Sa’ida Effendi,” he said gravely as I approached 
him. He made his dignified salaam, touching his 
forehead, lips and breast with a gesture that 
surprised me, for it was so like the Christian cere¬ 
mony of crossing one’s self. 


WHAT THE STEAMER BROUGHT 95 

“Good morning,” I said; “do you speak Eng¬ 
lish ?” 

“ I speak all the languages. They are alike to 
me.’' 

“You are—er—Jakoub ? ’’ 

I knew no other name for him, but I was honestly 
afraid of being unduly familiar in addressing him 
by his—whatever the Mohammedan equivalent of 
a Christian name may be. 

“ I am your Excellency’s servant—Jakoub,” he 
replied. 

He seemed to wait for me to continue the con¬ 
versation if I wanted to ; but would evidently be 
quite unembarrassed if no more were said. I 
uttered the usual futility about the morning. 

“ It is, sir, ver’ beautiful,” he replied. “ Your 
English sea can be sometimes beautiful, but it is 
not so often.” 

He politely offered me the wheel, asking if I 
would like to steer. I took it from him. Being 
better used to a tiller, I did not at first find my 
touch, and allowed a following sea to break square 
* on our counter. A heavy dash of spray wetted 
us both, but Jakoub only smiled politely at my 
vexation. 

It was then that I began to hate him. His manner 
was polite, in fact obsequious, but from the begin¬ 
ning of our acquaintance I felt that he regarded me 
as a sort of joke, as something utterly negligible. 
In the covert insolence of his handsome face I 
thought I read too that were I ever in his way he 
would see me thrown overboard as if I were a rat. 

I wondered at Edmund’s easy-going toleration 
of such a man. 

This was, however, my only disagreeable impres¬ 
sion on board the Astarte and, as I had no occasion 


96 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

to see the man, it soon passed from my mind as I 
fell into the mood of the cheerfully passing hours 
aboard ship. 

The weather kept fine, and the breeze held 
throughout the day and the night. 

Intent on picking up a little colloquial Arabic, 
I spent a good deal of time talking to the Arab 
who acted as waiter and servant in the saloon. 
Although I had never before heard the language 
spoken, I had in the course of my researches gained 
some little acquaintance with the terrors of Arabic 
grammar, and even some vocabulary, which I 
now found I pronounced all wrong. 

It was a relief to find that the extraordinary 
complexities of the language, as written by scholars, 
disappeared from the tongue as spoken, and I 
hoped it would not be impossible to compass a 
passable imitation of their weird gutturals and deep 
chest tones. 

Hassan, as our servant was called, professed to 
be astonished at my proficiency, and I was encour- 
r ^ed by finding that I could soon pick out some 
words and phrases in listening to the jabber of the 
Arab crew. 

Edmund was often able to help me in points I 
could not well explain to Hassan, although he 
averred he only knew enough of the language “ to 
curse the niggers in.” 

To Captain Welfare my progress was miraculous. 
He said that to have been able to speak and under¬ 
stand the language would once have been worth 
a thousand pounds to him, but he had been told 
it was derived from camel-talk, and had not believed 
it was possible for a Christian to learn it. 

He had all the ignorant Englishman’s feeling 
that there is something undignified in using any 


WHAT THE STEAMER BROUGHT 97 

language spoken by what he calls generically 
“ natives,” which is curiously mingled with pro¬ 
found respect for anyone else who can do it. 

It was on our second morning out that I found 
Captain Welfare on deck before me. 

" That’s Alderney,” he said, pointing to a long 
low coast-line just visible on our port bow. 

“ Already ? ” I asked. " We seem hardly to have 
started.” 

“ I’m glad it’s not been tedious, sir. But we’re 
a good way from Guernsey yet. The wind’s in¬ 
clined to south a bit though, and if it goes a few 
more points we’ll get our square sails set again. 
Then if it holds we’ll be there or thereabouts to¬ 
night or to-morrow morning.” 

" Well, I’m in no hurry to get there, as Tsaid.” 

" That’s maybe just as well. You never know 
your luck at sea in a sailing boat.” 

By midday I was watching the sea break over 
the famous Casquets, which looked like the jaw of 
a dog in the water. We went down to luncheon, 
and were just having our coffee after the meal when 
the saloon door opened and Jakoub came in. 

This was an unwarranted intrusion, for Jakoub 
had neither the status of a guest nor a servant, 
and etiquette is necessarily rigid at sea. I saw 
Welfare flush angrily and look at him with astonish¬ 
ment in his round bright eyes. 

“ What the devil-? ” began Edmund. 

Jakoub looked at him quite impassively and said a 
few words in Arabic which I did not understand. 

I saw Edmund look startled. 

“ Get away on deck and I’ll follow you in a 
minute,” he said. 

Jakoub gravely salaamed and left, carefully 
closing the door. 


G 



98 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

“ What’s the matter ? ” asked Welfare. 

“ I’m just going to see. Nothing much, I expect,” 
Edmund replied, but I thought there was a note 
of anxiety in his voice. 

“ Infernal cheek of him walking in here, whatever 
it is,” grumbled Welfare. 

“ Yes, of course,” Edmund agreed. " He should 
have given his message to Hassan.” 

I was enjoying the situation, taking the cowardly 
pleasure that one does when a man one dislikes 
incurs the blame of people one suspects of sup¬ 
porting him. I had felt I was in a minority in 
my resentment of Jakoub, and now I tasted the 
craven joy of having others on my side. 

“ Excuse me,” said Edmund as he finished his 
coffee, and he went on deck. 

“ I hope there’s nothing wrong ? ” I said to 
Welfare. 

“ Oh, there can’t be anything wrong exactly. A 
bit of a scrap among some of the crew, I daresay.” 

In spite of his words he looked uneasy as he lit 
a cigarette. 

“ Don’t let me keep you if you want to go up,” 
I said. 

" Perhaps I might as well have a look.” He 
followed Edmund and I was left alone. 

There were no unusual sounds, nor any sign of 
alteration in the weather. I felt that if it was 
only some matter of the ship’s discipline they 
would prefer me to remain below. 

I drank another cup of coffee, but then curiosity 
overcame my scruples and I went on deck. 

A little dirty steamer had come up to within a 
quarter of a mile of us, one of those tiny nondescript 
things that knock about near harbours with a bit 
of deck for’ard and a funnel right in the stern 


WHAT THE STEAMER BROUGHT 99 

making a vast amount of black smoke. Someone 
on her deck was handing down a string of signal- 
flags as I came up, and 1 noticed that our course 
was altered so as to bring us right down to her. 
There was nothing else to be seen save the spouts 
of foam over the Casquets, now far astern. 

Captain Welfare, Edmund and Jakoub were 
leaning on the port bulwarks, watching the little 
vessel and then Edmund came past me to take 
the 4 wheel from one of the Arabs. 

“ What’s up ? ” I asked. 

“ It’s a letter from the people in Guernsey—I 
don’t know what they want.” 

The wheel was put over a few spokes, the crew 
paid out some of the main and fore-sheets, and the 
Astarte went foaming down widely to leeward of 
the steamer. 

I heard the “ cling-cling ” of the steamer’s engine 
signal, and her noisy propeller stopped. 

Then our wheel was put hard over, the big 
booms came aboard with a swing, and the Astarte 
came into the wind with a tremendous flapping 
of her head sails. Her way took her within a few 
yards of the steamer, and as the helm was put over 
again she slid slowy along her lee. 

A man on the dirty little bridge gave us a hail 
and swung out a small packet attached to a light line 
which was neatly caught by Jakoub. 

“ All right ? ” he hailed in English. 

" All right.” . 

The steamer’s skipper rang his engines on again, 
the Astarte gathered her way, and the two boats 
parted with a wave of the hand from the man on 
the bridge. 

I saw Captain Welfare cut the canvas wrappings 
from the packet that had been thrown aboard. 


100 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 


He took a letter out, opened it, and glanced at 
it swiftly. 

Then it seemed to me that he looked across the 
deck at myself with an expression of regretful 
perplexity on his great heavy face. 

It occurred to me that this was how he would 
look if he had to announce to me that someone 
very dear to me were dead. 

But at the same time I knew I was the one mem¬ 
ber of the party who could not be affected by the 
new r s, whatever it might be. 

Still holding his letter in both hands and glancing 
at it. Captain Welfare walked across to Edmund 
and spoke to him. 

Edmund nodded, called Jakoub, and handed over 
the wheel to him. Then they both disappeared 
down the companion. 

I set down all these details as minutely as I 
can remember them, because it is from them that 
I have since had to piece together in my mind all 
that was happening during this time when I had 
no clue to their meaning. 

I had no mind to speak to Jakoub, and stood 
leaning over the bulwark watching the lessening 
smudge of black ,smoke that represented the little 
steamer. 

Edmund had left us sailing with free sheets 
on our course to Guernsey, so I was surprised on 
looking up to see the crew getting in sheets, while 
Jakoub put us on a course close-hauled to wind¬ 
ward. 

I surprised a look in Jakoub’s face as though 
he w r ere waiting for some sign of uneasiness on 
my part. His face w r as more than usually insolent, 
I thought, so I merely looked up along the leech 
of the sail till the tremor died from it as the Astarte 


WHAT THE STEAMER BROUGHT ioi 


settled to her new work. Then I returned to my 
former posture and waited ten minutes by my 
watch before I went below. 

The saloon was empty, but I heard voices from 
Welfare’s cabin, which had room for a good-sized 
table in it, and served as a kind of office and chart- 
room. 

I lay down on one of our delightfully comfortable 
locker couches with a novel I had been trying to 
get interested in. The steady motion of the boat 
and the soft diffused light that came down from 
the skylight were very soothing. 

The book was one that Captain Welfare regarded 
as a masterpiece of literature. He would not be 
satisfied until I had read and praised it. I was 
conscientiously trying to do the former, and intended 
afterwards to praise it without consulting my 
conscience. It was one of those novels that people 
write again and again, like the pictures that turn 
up season after season at the Academy—“ Nymphs 
Bathing," “ Autumn’s Fiery Finger," and the 
like. I forget whether this book was about Cava¬ 
liers and Roundheads, or the French Revolution. 
But very soon I began to be interested in the 
patterns made by the spaces between the printed 
words; they seemed to run in wavy lines down 
the page, and soon the book had lost all power 
to bore me. Presently I heard the cabin-door 
open, and Edmund and Welfare came out, speaking 
in low tones. 

" You’ll have to tell him," Edmund was saying. 

“ But what am I to say ? " 

“ Stick to what we arranged. You must chalk 
it all down to Jakoub." 

I perceived from their voices that they thought 
I was asleep, and though their conversation had 


102 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

conveyed no meaning to me, I did not want to 
overhear more. I coughed and sat up. 

“ I hope we have not disturbed you ? ” Welfare 
asked, looking, I thought, a little guilty. 

“ Not at all. But I’m afraid I have dozed a 
little over this most interesting book. It’s the 
sea air, and the motion.” 

“ Quite so, quite so,” said Captain Welfare 
solemnly. 

Edmund said nothing and went on deck. 

Captain Welfare sat <lown facing me in one 
of the revolving chairs on the opposite side of the 
table. 

His eyes looked distressful in the midst of his 
great cicatrix of a face, and I noticed perspiration 
on his forehead and upper lip. 

“ I hope there’s nothing wrong ? ” I said. 

“ Well, we’ve had some rather upsetting news. 
Nothing wrong exactly, but upsetting. It alters 
our plans a bit. I was just going to tell you. 
Me and Mr. Edmund have been talking things 
over a bit.” 

His big right hand was pinching up creases in 
the table-cloth and setting it all crooked in a mad¬ 
dening way. 

“ Well ? ” I said interrogatively. 

“ I don’t often drink between meals, Mr. Davoren, 
but I think I’ll have a brandy and soda if you don’t 
mind.” 

" Of course,” I said, as he touched the gong 
on the table and gave his instructions to Hassan. 

“ Perhaps you’ll join me ? ” he asked hopefully. 

I elected to have some whisky, so as to put him 
a little more at his ease, for he was perturbed to 
an extent that was quite distressing. 

I anticipated nothing but some trouble, possibly 


WHAT THE STEAMER BROUGHT 103 

some loss, in connection with the business, and 
was chiefly anxious to know whether Jakoub had 
been authorised to alter our course. 

Captain Welfare swallowed about half of his 
brandy and soda and mopped his forehead, still 
regarding me with a look of perplexity and distress. 

“Yes/’ he said, as though continuing a conversa¬ 
tion. “ Yes. We’ll have to give Guernsey a 
miss.” 

“ Oh ! Are you going straight to Jersey, then ? ” 

In the back of my mind I knew that the course 
we were on was taking us away from the one island 
as fast as from the other; but I had not thought 
it out, and felt there must be some way of account¬ 
ing for the manoeuvre. 

“No. I’m afraid we’ll have to give Jersey a 
miss too. In fact, well have to cut out the islands 
altogether this trip.” 

“ Really ? That’s very disappointing. Are we 
going straight back ? ” 

“ Oh no. No, well not go back for a bit.” 

“ Well, where on earth arc we going, Captain 
Welfare?” 

Captain Welfare slowly finished his drink and 
looked as if he were pondering the advisability of 
taking another. He finally put his glass down 
a little tremulously. 

“ The fact is—you saw this message come 
aboard ? ” 

“ Yes.” 

“ Well, it seems we’re wanted out East at once, 
very urgent. There’s nothing for it but to make 
all sail and get there.” 

“ Out East ? ” 

“ The Mediterranean, you know—the old beat.” 

“ But that will take weeks ! ” 


104 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

“ We should do it in a month with luck, if the 
weather holds/'’ 

“ And where are you going to put me off ? ” 

“ We were just talking about that, me and 
Mr. Edmund. You wouldn’t think well of making 
the trip with us, I suppose ? ” 

“ That’s quite out of the question. I only 
arranged to be away for two or three weeks.” 

“It will be a bit warm out there, of course, but 
not bad really, especially at sea, and the worst 
of the Khamsins—that’s the hot winds, you know 
—will be over.” 

“ But, Captain Welfare, I don’t care about the 
climate there, for I’m not going. It’s impossible. 
I must ask you to call at Guernsey or somewhere 
and put me off. Then I could get back to South¬ 
ampton. I shall be very sorry to leave the boat, 
but there’s nothing else for it.” 

“ It’s the time, Mr. Davoren. It might mean 
missing our markets. We can’t afford to take 
any chances.” 

“ I don’t profess to know much about trade-” 

“ You don’t, sir. Y0 11 don’t know anything 
about it. That’s what makes it so hard to explain.” 

“ All the same, I don’t see how a delay of twenty- 
four hours or less in a month’s voyage is going to 
make such a vital difference as all that.” 

“ That’s just it, Mr. Davoren. You don’t see 
it. You can’t.” 

“No, and therefore I demand to be landed at 
Guernsey. After all, I’m a partner.” 

“To be sure, sir. Nobody questions your right. 
But we—well, the fact is we can’t call at Guernsey. 
It’s not only missing our market—but we should 
lose Jakoub.” 

“ Jakoub ? That would be no great loss, in my 



WHAT THE STEAMER BROUGHT 105 

opinion. But what has he got to do with it ? ” 

“ I’m afraid Jakoub hasn't a very good record. 
We knew that, of course, when we took him on. 
I thmk Mr. Edmund told you ? ” 

“ He did. And my own impression is that he’s 
the biggest scoundrel unhung.” 

“ I wouldn’t be a bit surprised. But he’s extra¬ 
ordinarily useful to us just at present. I don’t 
know what we should do without him. Then 
they would want us to give evidence, and you don’t 
know what the Egyptian courts are for delay— 
and worse things.” 

“ But what is it all about ? For the Lord’s 
sake, man, tell me straight what’s happened.” 

“ I was just going to. It seems he’s wanted 
by the Egyptian police, and they have traced him 
on to the Astarte, and have warrants out for him 
all over the place. They might put the ship under 
arrest, and that would simply ruin us. We've 
got to get him back to Egypt, sir. We can get 
rid of him there, and we cannot get rid of him 
any nearer home.” 

There was an air of finality in his tone which 
warned me I must try to preserve my dignity, 
even if bereft of my liberty. 

" I think this is a matter that ought to be dis¬ 
cussed between all three of us,” I said. “ Do 
you mind if I send Hassan to ask my brother to 
join us ? ” 

“ Not at all. I’ll go myself,” said Welfare 
with an air of intense relief. 

For the time being the thought uppermost in 
my mind was the anxiety of Bates and Mrs. Rattray 
at my absence. I had not been long enough away, 
nor far enough, for the home foreground to recede. 

Edmund came in. looking, to my surprise, more 


io6 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 


cheerful and jollier than he had done for a long 
time. 

“ Well/’ he said, “ I suppose Welfare’s broken 
it to you ? Ah! I see yqu’ve been drinking to 
the cruise ! I’ll join you. Hassan, get another 
glass. I’m really jolly glad, old man, you’re coming. 
You will simply love the Mediterranean.” 

“It seems to me,” I said, with a sincere attempt 
at austerity, “ that I am being taken to the Mediter¬ 
ranean against my will, in order to help a criminal 
to elude justice.” 

“ Only temporarily,” said Edmund; “nothing 
could keep Jakoub from the gallows in the long 
run.” 

“ This kind of thing may be all very well for you. 
But in my position-” 

“ I know. It wouldn’t be considered good form 
in a clergyman. But I assure you nothing will 
ever come of it—at home. We’re not going ‘ East 
of Suez, where there ain’t no ten commandments,’ 
but to Egypt and the Levant, where there are 
so many commandments that nobody can remember 
them all, or bother very much. Besides, you’ve 
no responsibility in the matter, anyhow.” 

“ You forget I’m part owner of this boat.” 

“ We’ll make that all right. We’ll sign a declara¬ 
tion that you have been shanghaied and brought 
along under protest. You’ll sign, Welfare ? ” 

“ Certainly, if Mr. Davoren thinks it necessary.” 

“ I don’t want anything of the sort. But you 
must see it is impossible for me to be so long away 
from the parish.” 

“ Why, we heard the bishop telling you to stop 
away as long as you liked; and it will be a god¬ 
send for that poor fellow Snape.” 

“ Oh ! he won’t object, I know. But Bates and 



WHAT TH*, STEAMER BROUGHT 107 

Mrs. Rattray will be frantic with anxiety—and all 
my letters unanswered ! " 

“We don't suppose it's convenient; but on 
the other hand there's the chance of making a 
clear two thousand. Welfare and I can't afford 
to risk losing that." 

“ Two thousand pounds ? I wish you had let 
me go back to Guernsey in the boat that brought 
the message." 

“ I never thought of that," said Captain Welfare. 

“ Naturally. We didn't know what the message 
was. It wouldn’t have done, anyhow. No, it's 
far better as it is. The only thing now is to have 
as good a time as we can. So here’s luck ! " 

“ And I hope you won’t feel as if any constraint 
was put on you, sir," said Captain Welfare with 
profound solemnity. 

Edmund and I both laughed, and in the laugh 
was my capitulation. 

“ I can’t feel that, Captain Welfare, as long as 
you do nothing to prevent me swimming home ! " 

Captain Welfare held out his hand, and took 
mine gravely. 

“ Mr. Davoren," he said, “ I wouldn’t have 
had this happen for a great deal. I don’t know 
how to thank you for taking it as you do, sir; it's 
a great relief.” 

“ That’s all right," said Edmund ; “ and now we'll 
drink prosperity to the trip, and may nothing cheat 
the gallows of Jakoub." 



CHAPTER VI 


A PLAN TO SAVE JAKOUB 

A S I have said, I used to keep a careful 
diary as long as my life contained nothing 
L eventful to record. 

As soon as things began to happen to me I natur¬ 
ally ceased to record them. I was too busy experi¬ 
encing them. 

The diary habit, I think, presupposes a certain 
placidity, both of mind and circumstance. 

The days that followed each other now on board 
the Astarte were placid enough, but the habit 
was broken, and I have only a rather confused 
memory of the long journey. 

The wind held from the north and nor’-west, 
steady and moderate, with bright skies, and the 
Astarte, with the big square sails set, marched 
steadily over the waters. 

One night, as Edmund and I were on the deck 
before turning in, a great light flashed on our 
port bow. There was a slight haze, and we could 
see the great white beam move round across sea 
and sky like the hand of a vast clock until it struck 
the Astarte, and seemed to pause for an instant 
searching and almost blinding us ere it moved 
away again on its night-long quest. 

" That’s Ushant.” said Edmund. <f We’ll soon 
be in the Bay now.” 

108 




A PLAN TO SAVE JAKOUB 109 

For days and nights we were borne along on great 
following seas that seemed to fling us from one 
to another. Running before it we felt nothing of 
the wind that hummed continually in the shrouds, 
and it was as though we were swept down the current 
of a mighty river. 

Each day Edmund marked our position on the 
chart, and declared happily that we had beaten 
all records for a vessel of our size. 

Home and all my little anxieties about it van¬ 
ished from my mind. Even the existence of Jakoub 
ceased to trouble me. 

I lived absorbed in the splendour of our motion 
and in the rising and setting of the sun. 

Then the sea became smoother, though the 
good wind held, as the land came out to meet 
us. 

For whole days, it seems, I watched the dry, 
greenish-brown foothills of the Portuguese coast, 
with white farms and villages embedded in the 
valleys, and the fantastic outline of the higher 
land behind them. 

We passed fleets of sardine-fishers in boats that 
seemed to be absurdly small to be so far from 
land, and for a whole day we were among a school 
of dolphins that raced and played around us. 

Until I had seen those creatures I always thought 
a flock of swifts, screaming round the roofs in 
the evening, were the highest expression in nature 
of speed and delirious joy in life. But now I 
long to be a dolphin when I die. As they tore 
past us in groups and couples on the surface of 
the water, now leaping clear, now diving deep 
in a common impulse, one expected to hear great 
shouts of laughter from them in their play. Yet 
I was told there are men who shoot them and 


no A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 


leave a useless, bloody carcass wallowing in their 
vessel’s wake. 

One evening it fell almost calm, with a deep- 
red sunset touching the sea to flashes of rose among 
its blue, and lighting the coast with a purple and 
orange glow. 

One of the Arabs in the fo’c’sle was singing, 
or rather chanting, in a high-pitched tenor, and 
at the end of each sentence his hearers chimed 
in with a deep chorus of “ Kham leila, kha-am 
yome ? ” (“ How many nights, how many days ? ”) 

There was^a strange mysterious melody in the 
monotonous chant which was afterwards to become 
so familiar. It fixed the whole strange sunset 
landscape like a dream picture in my mind. 

Jakoub came out cursing them. The weird 
Oriental music ceased, and hatred of Jakoub 
sprouted anew in my heart. 

During all this time we were a cheery, cordial 
party in the cabin. Edmund seemed to be con¬ 
tinually in high spirits as we got farther south 
and the Astarte continued her record-breaking, 
and every day I found Captain Welfare more 
likeable as I got to know him better. He had 
quite stopped apologising to me for things, and 
had become used to treating me as a man of like 
passions with himself. He was very interested in 
the bishop, not having, as he said, met one before. 

One day he asked me in strict confidence if I 
thought his Lordship was really a God-fearing 
man. I naturally found this a delicate question, 
and one very difficult to answer. 

“ I should be very sony to misrepresent him,” 
I replied cautiously, “ but I should take him to 
be a man who feels he has no need to fear God. 
After all, why should he ? ” 


Ill 


A FLAN TO SAVE JAKOUB 

Captain Welfare looked at me with as much 
horror as though I had said something blasphemous. 

" No need to fear God ! ” he replied. " Well, 
I don't know ! ” 

I saw that if fear, craven fear of a petulant and 
unreasonable Deity were deleted from his religion, 
there would be nothing left. 

For Welfare was a very simple, literal-minded 
man. He was one of those who meant “ fear¬ 
ing God ” when he said it. The words did not 
convey to him their usual meaning of being bored 
on Sunday; a commoner and, after all, a much 
less harmful form of superstition. 

I was glad he was shocked, because Ju-ju 
worship makes me angry, and, unlike the bishop, 
I am not much interested in the theological ideas 
of primitive people. I never could see that these 
ideas had any influence on their conduct. So I 
was relieved to feel that Captain Welfare would 
probably not want me to talk about religion any 
more. 

In the intervals between eating and sleeping— 
the main concerns of a passenger on board ship— 
I made very material progress in Arabic as 
expounded by Hassan, and, spending thus a good 
deal of time in the saloon, I noticed that Captain 
Welfare was very busy in his cabin. He seemed to 
spend hours a day writing in a number of large 
strongly-bound commercial books of the type 1 was 
accustomed to think of as “ ledgers/’ 

One day he came to me with an air of great satis¬ 
faction on his large countenance, as though he 
were going to give me an unexpected treat. 

“ I’ve been thinking, sir,” he said, “ that now 
as you’re a partner you ought to have a thorough 
overhaul of the books. So I’ve got ’em all up to 


ii2 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

date and summarised, and ready for your inspec¬ 
tion, whenever you feel inclined to take an hour or 
two at them." 

“ I'm afraid it would not be the slightest use," 
I said, determined to take a firm stand at the 
beginning. A great disappointment clouded his 
expression, and I thought of the hours I had seen 
him spending over his lamentable occupation. 

“ You see," I continued, as kindly as I could, 
“ I should not understand them. To me your 
volumes are simply what Charles Lamb called 
‘ books that are no books/ I have sometimes 
tried to read the balance-sheets published by 
charities to which I am a subscriber, and I always 
find that everything that would normally be regarded 
as an asset is placed on the debit side of the account ; 
while debts and other liabilities are on the credit 
side, as if they were something to be proud of. I 
have tried, but I:cannot understand this. There is 
either some perversity in the business mind, or 
some blind spot in mine, which prevents our ever 
coming together, as it were. I have definitely 
abandoned all idea of trying to grasp what seems 
to me to be rather absurdly called ‘ book-keeping/ " 

Captain Welfare tried several times to interrupt 
this long speech ; but I was determined to make 
my position perfectly clear at the start and would 
not let him. 

He looked very disappointed. 

“ I know what you mean," he said. " I don’t 
mind admitting that sometimes those fancy ways 
of accounting lays me over myself. But I’ve 
got my own method—perfectly clear and—and 
straightfor’ard. You’ll soon pick it up. Just 
let me show you the * profit and loss ’ account." 

He looked so pathetic, so like a child when 


A PLAN TO SAVE JAKOUB 113 

one has not time to take an interest in his toy, 
that I yielded with a sigh and went into his cabin. 

He had a great array of large folios. I admired 
the binding and the smooth thick paper. I praised 
the neatness of his handwriting and figures, and 
particularly admired the diagonal lines which 
he had ruled in red ink across half-blank pages. 
These guided the eye down to the words “ Total ” 
or " Brought forward,” followed by certain pounds, 
shillings, and pence. 

I told him that I had never been able to rule a 
line with a pen without the ink forming little 
pools along the ruler, which made blots when 
you removed it. 

I asked him to show me how to do it properly. 

But it was no mere manual dexteritv oi which 
Captain Welfare was proud. I had to tell him 
regretfully that his figures conveyed almost nothing 
to me, although I admitted that they appeared 
to be based on something more % like a rational 
system than the usual products of professional 
accountancy. 

“ Besides,” I said, as a cheering thought struck 
me, “ if I want to I can get an accountant to go 
through all these books and report on them. I 
might be able to understand his report.” 

" I don’t know,” said Welfare doubtfully, “ but 
what 1 could explain these books better to you 
than what I could to one of them professional 
gentlemen. You see, they want things shown 
by their own method, which ain’t applicable to 
our business, as you say yourself. And they want 
vouchers which you can’t get in our business.” 

” Vouchers ? Oh no, of course not ! ” 

Whatever vouchers might be, 1 felt I should 
greatly dislike them. 


H 


11 4 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

“ I'm glad you feel yourself we hadn’t ought 
to produce vouchers. How can you get a receipt 
from a native what can t write his own language, 
let alone any proper one ? ” 

“ No, that’s obvious,” I agreed. 

" Well, I just wanted you as a partner to feel 
you had access to everything, and to know you 
were perfectly satisfied. Now this,” he added, 
turning up a page in a smaller book, " this is an 
idea of my own. Just to show you we are running 
everything on sound business lines. This is the 
Depreciation Account on the Astarte .” 

“ Oh ! ” I said, trying hard to make the mono¬ 
syllable sound intelligent and interested. 

“ Yes; every year we write so much off her 
value. In a few years’ time she’ll be depreciated 
away to nothing.” 

" Oh ! I hope not,” I said in alarm at the idea 
of a few gaunt ribs representing all that was left 
of the good ship. ‘ 

“ Hope not ? ” asked Welfare. “ But don’t 
you f that every penny we make out of her then 
will be pure bunce ? ” 

“ Is that what they call ‘ scrap price ’ ? ” I 
asked. 

I saw at once that I had said the wrong thing. 

“ Scrap price ? Why, we’re not going to sell her ! ” 

“ Oh no. Of course not. Yes, of course, it’s a 
splendid idea. I don’t quite see where the extra 
money comes from. Wouldn’t it pay better to 
keep her in repair ? ” 

' “ Well, I don’t know! Of course, we keep her 
in repair. 

“ That’s all right then. I didn’t quite follow.” 

“ The point is, she stands at nothing in the 
books.” 


A PLAN TO SAVE JAKOUB 115 

"I see; and sticks at nothing on the sea, eh ? ” 

I laughed at my own pleasantry, and was sur¬ 
prised to see a look of quick suspicion and annoy¬ 
ance on Captain Welfare’s usually genial face. 

“ Nothing in the way of weather, 1 mean.” 

Captain Welfare closed his books in silence 
and put them back on their shelf. 

“ Well, so long as you’re satisfied,” he said. 

“ Oh, I’m perfectly satisfied.” 

“ And the books is there for your inspection 
whenever you’ve a mind.” 

“ Thank you. But I’m afraid you’ll have to 
look upon me practically as a sleeping partner.” 

“ Perhaps it will be as well.” 

I had lost count of the lapse of time under the 
strange nepenthe-like influence that a sailing- 
ship at sea possesses. If I thought at all of Bates 
and Mrs. Rattray, of Snape or the bishop, of parish, 
or pigeons, or the Byzantine Empire, it was as of 
dead friends remembered, and dim interests of 
the past. 

The thought of anxiety on the part of people 
at home no longer worried me. I had no worries. 
I had hardly even anticipation. The Astarte had 
become my planet, bearing all I knew of humanity. 
The ocean had become space, through which my 
planet ever moved, and measurements of time 
had ceased to matter, as though we were already 
in Eternity. I was content to lean for hours on the 
bulwark looking down at the stream of bubbles 
for ever forming on the ship’s side, begotten of 
the sea by the ship’s motion, falling behind us, 
spinning for a moment on the surface, and expiring 
in their myriads, countless and insignificant as 
human lives. 

Then one day the horizon was decorated by 


n6 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 


the delicate white edges of the still snow-covered 
Sierras of Spain. I do not know for how 
many days I watched their delicate aerial loveliness. 
We came nearer the land, and someone pointed 
out Trafalgar Bay. But even that one magic 
word was powerless to move me from the trance 
that had got possession of my soul. 

We passed through the Straits at night, and 
I awoke in the Mediterranean. 

We kept near the southern shore, passing under 
the savage precipices and gullies of Ceuta. The 
Rock of Gibraltar I saw only in the distance, stand¬ 
ing pointed like a helmet. The wind, still northerly, 
was now on our beam, and there was less of it, 
so that our progress, though still steady, was slower 
than it had been. 

For days and days it seemed we hugged the African 
coast, sometimes so close that we could see the 
stones and sand on the shingly beach below barren 
rocky foothills. For the most part the land seemed 
utterly uninhabited, but occasionally we passed 
a greener tract, where there were sparse crops 
and stunted bushes, occasionally a flat-roofed 
hovel among them, and through Captain Welfare’s 
telescope I could make out goats and children 
moving. 

It was strange to me to think of the lives of 
human beings there. 

On other days the land would recede quite out 
of sight as we passed deep bays, and again we 
passed islets of rock, precipitous and fantastic 
in form and colour. 

So desolate were these places, it seemed as if 
ours must be the first eyes to see them, impos¬ 
sible to realise that for ages men had known them, 
charted, mapped and measured them. 


A PLAN TO SAVE JAKOUB 117 

The only human incident I can recall in all this 
time is that Edmund and Welfare quarrelled one 
night over their game of piquet, and did not speak 
to each other until after dinner the following even¬ 
ing, when they resumed their play, and each politely 
insisted that the other had been right. That is 
one of the beauties of piquet. It can only be 
rightly conducted in an atmosphere of eighteenth- 
century courtliness. It is a game for ladies and 
gentlemen, and soon, alas ! will be played no more. 
I was surprised to find that Welfare played it, and 
could as soon have pictured him walking a minuet. 

I was still dreamily content, and had ceased 
to have even any curiosity as to our destination ; 
but as we drew nearer to the coast of Egypt I 
noticed a new preoccupation in Edmund and 
Welfare. They made long and intimate studies 
of the chart, and several times I saw them in con¬ 
versation with Jakoub. 

I began to awake with pain to the renewed sense 
of the responsibilities and anxieties of life. I 
had forgotten Jakoub, and to remember his exist¬ 
ence again brought back to me all the doubt and 
fear of the future which is the real tragedy of 
mankind. 

I had seen the splendour of the Mediterranean 
sky, the pageantry of dawn and sunset, of moon- 
rise and the evening star, as they might have 
appeared to the first man ; but now all was tarn¬ 
ished again by human associations. I had to 
put on life again as one might don a hair-shirt. 
And I shrank from it. 

Edmund began to hold aloof again, and some 
instinct warned me that Welfare was seeking 
in his clumsy mind for the easiest way of making 
some difficult proposition. 


n8 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 


I began almost unconsciously to arm myself 
against him. So I was on the alert when he said 
to me one afternoon with an elaborate attempt 
to speak unconcernedly, “ You'd like to see some¬ 
thing of the desert while you’re out here, I sup¬ 
pose ? ” 

“ I should have liked to see Egypt, of course,” 
I replied, pre-warned, “ but I can’t now. I shall 
simply have to send a cable and get the first boat 
for Marseilles.” 

“ To be sure. I know you must be getting home. 
I shall be very sorry when you leave us, sir.” 

“ Thank you. I shall be quite as sorry to go. 
It’s been a delightful trip. I feel as if I had been 
dreaming. But I’ve woken up to reality now, and 
I must make up my mind to a certain amount 
of awkwardness after being so long away and send¬ 
ing no word. I must get home and put things 
straight.” 

“ That is so. I quite understand. I was think¬ 
ing you would actually save time, and see a bit 
of the country into the bargain, if you landed 
near the western frontier and went on overland to 
Alexandria.” 

“ Is that possible ? ” 

“ Quite easy. It would be hot in the desert, 
of course.” 

” I don’t think I should mind the heat.” 

” It would be about a day and a half’s camel 
ride from the place I’m thinking of to the railway, 
and then only a few hours to Alexandria. It would 
take us longer by sea, even if the wind holds, and 
it’s falling lighter. We’ll soon only have the 
morning and evening breeze to count on.” 

I found the idea of a camel ride across the desert 
rather attractive. It would be an adventure, 


A PLAN TO SAVE JAKOUB 119 

another instalment of the utterly unexpected, a 
fitting end to this extraordinary voyage. 

‘'You wouldn’t, of course, be seeing the Pyramids, 
or the temples that everybody goes to see, but of 
course you can visit them any time,” Captain Wel¬ 
fare continued, as though impartially weighing 
the advantages of his own suggestion, “ and I 
don’t fancy many tourists get to see the western 
desert.” 

“ I should like it,” I said. “ It would be intensely 
interesting. But how on earth am I to get a 
camel and a guide? I don’t suppose one can 
whistle for them like a taxi ? ” 

“ No ; it’s a pretty lonesome part. But Jakoub 
will manage all that.” 

“ Jakoub ? ” I asked with instant suspicion. 

“ Yes; Jakoub has got to go that way.” 

“ Then he can go alone,” I said with sudder 
emphasis. “ I will not go with him.” 

“ No ? I’m afraid that settles it then. It’s 
a pity too, for 1 think you would have found it 
interesting.” 

Captain Welfare walked away as though the 
subject were closed. If for any reason he wanted 
me to go with Jakoub, this was the cleverest thing 
I had known him do ; for he left me longing to 
discuss the matter. Indeed, I came to the con¬ 
clusion .that he could not want me to go, for it 
was difficult to credit him with so much subtlety. 

I resumed the question myself at dinner, anxious 
to know if Edmund had been consulted before 
the proposal was made to me. Edmund made 
no attempt to conceal the fact that it was their 
joint idea. 

“ I don’t think,” he said, “ that Welfare has 
made it quite clear to you why we want you to go.” 


120 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 


“ I understood that it was to be a sort of pleasure 
trip for me in charge of this malefactor of yours." 

“As a matter of fact, I think you would find 
the journey interesting, though fatiguing. But 
that is not the point." 

" My point is that 1 have no wish to be murdered 
in a howling wilderness by a man of whom I utterly 
disapprove." 

“ Jakoub may be a murderer for all I know," 
Edmund admitted. “ I am sure he would become 
one if it suited his convenience. But you must 
know that neither Welfare nor I would suggest 
your going if there was the slightest chance of his 
murdering you ! " 

Of course, I did know this perfectly well; but 
with the babyish perversity that sometimes afflicts 
quite sensible people, I felt compelled to go on 
being offended. I was making myself ridiculous, 
and I knew it, and nothing feeds anger in one’s 
heart like that. But having once adopted a pose, 
even a pose one dislikes or is tired of, it requires 
immense strength of mind to abandon it. 

I have known the happiness of families wrecked 
by this fatuous adhesion to a worn-out, discredited 
and detested pose. 

“ I don’t see," I said, “ what is to prevent his 
murdering me if he wants to. I’m sure he dislikes 
me as much as I do him." 

“ Very likely. But under the circumstances 
you will be necessary to his own safety. Jakoub 
has sense enough to control his dislikes." 

" And in what way am I to protect him ? " 

“ You’ll be part of his disguise. He’ll go as 
your dragoman. It’s the only way to get him safely 
into Alexandria, and we must have him there for 
a few days to negotiate this sale." 


A PLAN TO SAVE JAKOUB 121 

“ Why can’t you go yourself, or Captain Wel¬ 
fare ? " 

" I’m wanted to navigate the ship. Welfare 
couldn’t manage the business, because he can't 
talk the lingo. And Jakoub must be got off the 
ship before they come and look for him." 

" And why should I help the brute to escape ? 
I don't want him to escape 1 " 

" Mr. Davoren," said Welfare very solemnly, 
" Jakoub is a wrong 'un, I admit. A dead wrong 
'un. I've never disguised my opinion about that. 
I don't know what the charges against him may 
be—not all of them. But I know this, however 
bad you may think him, if you saw the convict 
prison at Tour ah you wouldn’t want to help get 
him there. If you saw the poor devils there work¬ 
ing in chains in the quarries under the desert sun, 
you’d know that no man is bad enough for it. I 
tell you, sir, if a convict’s friends have any money 
when he’s sent there, they try to bribe a sentry 
to shoot him. It’s all they can do. Men have 
prayed their judges to hang them, sooner than 
be sent there." 

This appeal of Captain Welfare’s impressed me, 
but I only said, " All the same, I don’t see why 
I should help him to escape the law. It’s a very 
unpleasant, a very risky, a very wrong thing for 
a man in my position to do." 

“ But," said Edmund, " you don’t know anything 
aga'nst him really except what we’ve told you 
—our suspicions." 

"You forget that you mentioned warrants for 
his arrest." 

"Aye. We did mention that," said Welfare; 
" it’s a pity, but we had to." 

" Captain Welfare, am I to understand that 


122 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

you decide beforehand how much of the truth 
I am to be told ? ” 

“ Oh, dear no, sir. You’ve been told practically 
everything. I only meant that if we had kept 
it quiet about the warrants you’d maybe have 
been easier in your mind.” 

“ There’s no need for us to start disliking each 
other,” Edmund remarked judicially; “the situa¬ 
tion is simply this. Jakoub must' go. If you 
don’t like to go with him he must go alone. In 
that case he risks his own liberty and our profit. 
If you choose, you can save both. I quite admit 
it’s asking a good deal of you. But what you do 
not know is Egypt and the ways of the Egyptian 
police and their courts. Jakoub probably does 
not deserve justice, but he certainly won’t get it 
from them. He would probably get off scot free 
simply because he really is a rogue. In the mean¬ 
time, I don’t see why he should not be serving us.” 

“ It seems to me that I am no\v being asked. 
to go practically on behalf of the firm. That is 
a very different thing from having a sort of pleasure 
trip arranged for my benefit.” 

1 spoke thus in loyalty to my pose, of which 
I was getting sicker every moment. I had made 
up my mind to go, since I had learned that J akoub 
had good reasons for letting me continue to live, 
and that handing him over to Egyptian justice was 
apparently patronising a kind of lottery, in which 
he might draw a ticket entitling him to be tor¬ 
tured to death, or a different-coloured one letting 
him go free. I wanted to see him decently but 
quite certainly hanged. 

“ I’m afraid I’m to blame,” said Captain Welfare. 

“ I hadn’t ought to have put it to you as I did. 

I was going on to explain how you might give us all 


A PLAN TO SAVE JAKOUB 123 

a leg-up, all of us as a firm I mean, but if you remem¬ 
ber, sir, you rayther cut me short about Jakoub.” 

This was a very unnecessary remark of Captain 
Welfare’s. It merely emphasised the personal 
side of my present attitude, which I was now 
anxious to abandon. Edmund’s delicate tact evi¬ 
dently recognised this. 

“ I am certainly asking you to go on behalf of 
the firm,” he said. “ We must have someone 
we can trust in charge of Jakoub, whom we cannot 
trust. Apd at present there simply isn’t anyone 
else but you.” 

This, of course, settled it, and I had very soon 
graciously promised to go. 

On looking back it seems to me that in every one 
of these transactions I allowed myself to become 
as it were committed, without knowing the details, 
or anything of the possible objections. When these 
became obvious it was too late for me to withdraw. 

I was, in fact, dragged at the heels of Edmund’s 
fate. That is the only excuse 1 can offer to those 
who, knowing the sequel, will judge that I require 
one. 

For myself I require no excuse, for I was not 
conscious of wrong-doing. But then, I have already 
tried to explain to the reader something of those 
terms of pleasant familiarity on which I and my 
conscience dwelt together. x I am sure it should 
be a function of any true religion to promote this 
cheery co-partnership, and that if it were only 
commoner there would be far more agreeable 
people in the world. I always take at their word 
those who go about calling themselves “ miserable 
sinners,” and I notice this always seems to dis¬ 
concert them. 

We had been for some time out of sight of land, 


124 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

as the coast of Tripoli had fallen away from us 
into the great Bay of Sidra, but now, on the morning 
after our discussion, I saw for the first time the 
edge of the great Libyan Desert. 

We still carried a breeze with us, but inland of 
us the sea lay becalmed, so smooth it seemed to 
be some viscous sea like that imagined by the 
Ancient Mariner, while the miraged atmosphere 
above it was fluid. The remotest part of this 
shimmering fluid was threaded by a thin line of 
broken points of yellow light, like fragments of 
the moon. 

That was the distant coast, the margin of the 
great desert. 


CHAPTER VII 


I MOUNT A CAMEL 

B Y the next morning the coast was more 
distinct and we were still approaching 
it. But our progress was now very slow, 
and we could depend only on the land breeze 
of early morning and the sea breeze of the 
evening. 

The heat of the day was tremendous, or seemed 
so to me even under the awnings which were 
rigged fore and aft and kept constantly wet. 
Metal-work on deck became too hot to touch, 
and even the painted wooden bulwarks burned 
through one’s sleeves when leaned upon. 

The Arabs worked unwillingly, dropping down 
and sleeping in any patch of shade that presented 
itself, and I constantly heard the horrid swish 
of Jakoub’s whip as he woke them. I spent the 
long intolerable days dripping in a hammock 
chair on deck, feverishly watching the sweep of 
the sun across the sky and calculating the hours 
to be endured before he would again become red 
and harmless in the healing vapours of the western 
horizon, and the sea-breeze would surprise me 
again with its chilliness. Or I gazed with aching 
eyes at the palpitating sand of the coast, won¬ 
dering if it would be possible for me to live and 
move on it at all ? 


125 


126 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

Edmund and Welfare had the acquired eastern 
habit of sleeping during the hot hours, and spent 
most of the time in their cabins, when they were 
not required on deck. 

At that blessed hour before sunset, however, 
we met on deck, and Hassan brought up ingeni¬ 
ously cooled drinks for the party. 

It was on one of these occasions that I expressed 
my fears as to the heat of the desert journey. 

“ It won't be as bad as this, really,” Edmund 
said. “ We’ll land you in the evening when 
Jakoub has got the camels together and loaded. 
You’ll travel through the night and make for a 
place where you can spend the day under shelter. 
Then it will be only one trek of a few hours to 
the nearest station on the railway. I’ve never 
been on that Western Railway, but I’m afraid 
they’re fairly rotten old carriages. If you get 
a day-train it will be beastly hot and dusty. Five 
or six hours will get you into Alexandria.” 

” That certainly does not sound alarming.” 

I had a twinge of something like disappoint¬ 
ment at the idea of my adventure dwindling to 
such modest dimensions. Once it was over, I 
should have liked to tell people at the Athenaeum 
and other comfortable places at home about " the 
long trek on camel-back across the burning 
sands.” 

I would have welcomed quite a: considerable 
degree of real discomfort as a basis for exaggera¬ 
tion within the limits proper to a clergyman. 

“ I shouldn’t mind trying a part of the journey 
in the daytime,” I said. 

“ Perhaps not,” said Captain Welfare. " But 
the natives won’t allow their camels to work in 
the heat.” 


I MOUNT A CAMEL 127 

“ I thought a camel could stand any amount 
of heat! ” 

“ Not them. They’re the softest beasts that 
walk. They drop in their tracks in the heat, 
and if it’s cold at night they have to be rugged 
up better than a horse.” 

“ There is more rot believed by people at home 
about camels,” said Edmund, “ than about any 
beast of the field. What do you suppose is a 
camel’s load ? ” 

“ I confess my ideas are very vague. I couldn’t 
tell you to a ton.” 

They both laughed. 

“ I think it’s the natural history books that 
are given as Sunday school prizes that are respon¬ 
sible for the average Englishman’s ideas about 
camels. Their proper load for regular work is 
300 lbs. Of course they can take more for a 
short time. The natives overload them badly 
themselves, but they won’t let us when we hire 
them. You bet they watch that. And he’s got 
to be watered every second day to keep his con¬ 
dition—not about once & week as people imagine. 
As his pace is two and a half miles an hour, a 
horse can really get just as far between drinks. 
All the same he’s a most invaluable beast. We 
could do nothing without him on the desert. Oh, 
you’ll get to like them all right when you’re used 
to them.” 

As a matter of fact, now that the time was 
getting so near, I began to have qualms of un¬ 
easiness at the idea of riding on one of these 
uncouth beasts. 

I. like riding my own familiar cob, but am some- 
vhat nervous of mounting even a strange horse, 
nd to me a camel had never been anything but 


128 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 


an object placed for my amusement and instruc¬ 
tion in the Zoological Garden. There he had 
always amused and instructed me from the other 
side of a tall and impregnable iron fence. 

I knew of course that trippers in Egypt always 
got photographed mounted on a camel with the 
Sphinx and a Pyramid in the background, as 
if all their tripping in Egypt were done on camel- 
back, and they had not in fact gone from Cairo 
to Ghizeh in an electric tramcar. But I now 
reflected that these were doubtless special camels 
kept for the purpose, broken, as it were, to trippers 
—heart-broken no doubt! 

But to have to mount and control the ordinary 
camel of Arab commerce, picked up by Jakoub 
on a wild and inaccessible part of the desert, I 
felt, might be a very different proposition, and 
one making a heavy demand on the courage of 
a middle-aged and naturally timid vicar. 

“ I hope/' I said, “ I shall be able to ride the 
beast all right." 

“ Oh! you’ll manage that easily," Edmund 
said. “ They’re perfectly quiet. We’ll show you 
how to mount, and after he gets up, you have 
only to sit there and oscillate." 

It sounded quite simple, and yet there were 
vague misgivings left in my heart. 

“ How many camels are we taking ? " I asked. 

“ Well, we’ve roughly 2,000 lbs. of stuff. That 
will take six baggage camels. Four could do 
it for such a short journey, but the natives are 
sure tg insist on our hiring six. Then there’ll 
be a riding camel for you and one for Jakoub." 

“ By the way, what is this merchandise I am 
shepherding ? " I asked. 

“ We’ll have to explain all that," said Edmund, 


I MOUNT A CAMEL 


129 

cutting in as Welfare rubbed his great chin thought¬ 
fully. “We’ve got to give you a lot of rather 
elaborate directions. I suppose we might as well 
do it now as later.” 

“ Yes,” added Captain Welfare, “ the whole 
thing is a rather delicate business. If it’s not 
worked right we’d spoil our own market, and 
you see we can’t let Jakoub know too much.” 

“I’m very glad to hear that,” I said. 

“You must not tell him anything,” said Wel¬ 
fare, “ though he has to hand the stuff over to 
our agent, and even that has to be done quietly. 
The stuff is—well, it’s a kind of chemical. It’s 
one of the rare earths used in making incandescent 
gas-mantles. There’s hardly any of it in Egypt 
and there’s tremendous competition to get it. 
That’s why if it was known as we’d brought in 
such a big lot as 2,000 lbs. the price would go 
flop, and we’d lose a lot of money.” 

“ I see.” This really did seem to me an obvious 
and easily comprehensible proposition. 

“ And so,” said Edmund, taking up the argu¬ 
ment, “ we want you to take it into Alexandria 
as curios, and specimens and things you have 
collected in the desert. That is if you're asked 
any questions, which you probably won’t be.” 

I could feel their eyes upon me as I took in 
their suggestion that I should become a party 
to what certainly seemed to me a transaction 
very near akin to fraud. I was amused to feel 
that they both expected me to be much more 
shocked than in fact I was. 

As long as I was satisfied that nobody was 
going to be injured or defrauded, the mere “ verbal 
inexactitude ” was to me only a harmless breach 
of one of those conventions which, as I have already 


1 


I 3 0 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

explained, I regard as maintained for the guidance 
of persons of inferior intellect. 

This attitude of mind may seem rather shock¬ 
ing to some quite intelligent people. I suppose 
it represents the effect on me of my theological 
training. 

“ Don't you think," I asked after a rather 
pregnant pause, " that my position would be a 
somewhat uncomfortable one if it were discovered 
that my desert collections consisted entirely of 
rare earth for incandescent mantles ? " 

" It would," Edmund admitted, " but there's 
not the slightest risk of that happening. Do 
you think I would ask you to do it if there were ? " 

“ Honestly, Edmund, it is becoming difficult 
for me to estimate the limits of your possible 
requests." 

Edmund smiled gaily, with a look of relief, 
but Captain Welfare still watched me, leaning 
forward with his hairy hands on his knees and 
an expression of anxious solicitude in his large 
pathetic eyes. 

" If you like, sir," he suggested, " we could 
easily put in a layer of shells, and fossils, and 
native ornaments ; things a clergyman would pick 
up on the desert." 

"No, thank you," I said snappishly. 

" There’s not the remotest fear of anyone want¬ 
ing to examine the cases, or asking any questions, 
as long as they’re under your charge. I merely 
suggested you should yourself say they were your 
collections, or whatever you like to call them, 
when putting them on the railway. I've worked 
it all out. Now, listen, we put you ashore at a 
quiet spot on Egyptian territory. If the stuff 
were dutiable, that would of course be smuggling. 


I MOUNT A CAMEL 


L3i 

Certainly if we landed at Alexandria the Customs 
people would examine it, and we have told you 
why we don't want it known that we have brought 
the stuff into Egypt. The camel men won't 
bother, as long as they’re paid about double the 
proper price for their camels, and at the station, 
for a hundred piastres bakshish, you will have 
both station-master and guard ready to shine 
your boots with their tongues. 

“ At Alexandria you will go straight to Van 
Emiengen’s hotel. He knows all about the con¬ 
signment, and Jakoub will follow you with the 
cases as soon as he is able to get a vehicle to put 
them in. Then you will hand them over to our 
agent in Alexandria, who will call for them with 
a note signed by us, which you will have posted 
yourself in Alexandria. Then you will have 
finished with the business, and Jakoub will get 
back to us if he cam, and go to the devil if he 
can’t.” 

As thus stated by Edmund, the proposition 
seemed to me quite a harmless ruse de guerre. 
I was suspicious of all commerical methods, .and 
nothing would have induced me for instance to 
co-operate in anything like the trading habits 
of our grocer, who was nevertheless, as I have 
already mentioned, one of the most eminent mem¬ 
bers of my Sunday congregation. But I saw 
nothing in this transaction to which anyone could 
object who kept his conscience in reasonable sub¬ 
jection, and I said so frankly. 

Captain Welfare’s tension immediately relaxed. 
He leaned back in his chair with a sigh and wiped 
his forehead and upper lip with his handkerchief. 
As the evening was now cool, and no amount of 
heat ever seemed able to make Captain Welfare 


132 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

perspire, this was a sure indication that he had 
been in a condition of considerable mental agita¬ 
tion. He drew a long breath and I saw at once 
that he was under the necessity of making a 
speech. This happened to him sometimes, just 
as other men get periodical attacks of asthma or 
gall-stones. 

“ Mr. Davoren, sir,” he began, after clearing 
his throat in the most approved oratorical style, 
“ I think this is the third time as we’ve had to 
put before you a proposition that must have 
seemed distasteful to you. A proposition you 
might have been justified in refusing without 
examination, if so be you had been a man as is 
not prepared to look into things and do the square 
thing, and the kind thing, and the generous 
thing-” 

“ Oh, stow it, Welfare! ” said Edmund. 

But Captain Welfare was not to be stopped 
now, any more than a body of stampeded mules. 
He ignored Edmund, who stretched out his legs, 
shut his eyes, and pretended to go to sleep. 

“ I want to put it on record, sir, as I appreciate— 
as we appreciate the handsome way you have 
met us on these occasions. You’ve acted as a 
gentleman, sir, because you are a gentleman, 
and as a man because—well—because you are a 
man.” 

There was a prolonged groan from Edmund. 

" I wish to thank you, sir, for the spirit in which 
you have met all our suggestions.” 

I felt extremely embarrassed. 

The Astarte lay becalmed and almost motion¬ 
less between the still glowing desert shore and 
the vast disc of the sun, now falling through 
a mass of slate-coloured vapour to his setting. 



I MOUNT A CAMEL 


133 

In all this golden and purple immensity there 
was no living thing in sight outside the ship, 
which was suspended like a fragment of dust in 
a sunbeam. The only human sound was Captain 
Welfare’s egregious clap-trap. 

He was talking away exactly as if he were mov¬ 
ing a vote of thanks to the chairman of a board 
of guardians or a town council, or proposing a 
toast at an Oddfellows’ supper. He was in that 
state of orgasm which oratory of this type always 
produces in the lower middle-class Englishman. 

This habit is ridiculous enough, even among 
its normal surroundings of stuffy rooms, half- 
cleared tables, and black-coated pork-butchers 
and pawnbrokers. But here, poised in the silence 
where sea and sky and desert met, where Nature 
seemed to have unveiled her immensity in a sacra¬ 
mental moment, Captain Welfare ceased to be 
absurd. 

Edmund and I both felt him as something 
almost obscene—a sacrilege. 

I managed to murmur, “ Thank you,” when 
he finished, and I was indeed thankful for .silence 
when it came. 

But grateful as the silence was, it seemed neces¬ 
sary to say something, if only to prevent the dis¬ 
covery by Welfare that he had not the sympathy 
of his audience, and so the development among 
us of embarrassment and discomfort. 

I asked him how long he thought it would be 
before we reached the landing-place. 

“ We’re close to it now,” he said, “ not above 
thirty miles or so, but of course we’re at the mercy 
of the wind and the current.” 

“ The current ? ” I asked. “ I thought there 
was practically no tide in the Mediterranean.” 


134 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

“No, there’s no tide to speak of. But coastal 
currents ? My word ! You pick up a point 
ashore, and see how we’re drifting now.” 

Distant as the coast was, I could see that we 
were indeed slipping slowly back on the way we 
had come. 

“ The worst of these currents is that you can’t 
reckon on them like the tide. They’re wind- 
driven, or caused by heat, I suppose, but when 
you’re ashore don’t you go bathing on this coast 
without you know where you are. There’s often 
a four-knot current inshore that would sweep 
any man away, and often does. But if we get 
a breeze to-night, we ought to land you to-morrow.” 

As he spoke the last limb of the sun sank below 
the horizon, lighting it for a moment with the 
mysterious green flash that is sometimes seen 
in these waters, and is said to be due to its rays 
shining through and illuminating the water at 
the edge of the sea. 

At the same time the sea, which had looked 
like a bath of mercury, suddenly blackened 
to northward of us, and the Astarte’s booms 
swung out to starboard with the cheery rattle 
of sheets running through the blocks. The ship 
leaned over with a little thrill as of a happy awaken¬ 
ing, the ripple began to play again at her bow, 
and we were under way once more. 

“ That’s better,” said Captain Welfare, rising 
from his chair. “ Would you like to see just 
where we are on the chart ? ” 

I thanked him, and we all three went below 
to his cabin. 

A section of an Admiralty chart was pinned 
out as usual, with the Astarte’s position from day 
to day marked on it in pencil. 


I MOUNT A CAMEL 


135 

Captain Welfare put a broad forefinger close 
to the last mark. 

“ That’s where we are now,” he said, “ as near 
as we can tell from soundings. As you see your¬ 
self, there’s no land-marks anyone could pick up 
hereabouts. Those figures show you it’s all shoal 
water between us and the land, until we get 
here.” 

He indicated a place a little farther east along 
the coast, where there was a small bay or indenta¬ 
tion. 

“ Here you see there’s water enough for the 
Astarte up to within a few yards of the beach, 
and there’s some tall sandhills and a bit of an 
old ruined sheikh’s tomb that we can pick up 
even at night with this moon.” 

“ Yes; but are there any human beings or 
camels there ? ” 

Edmund laughed. “ I think,” he said, “ you 
still suspect us of some ill doings. Do you really 
think we are going to maroon you on a waterless 
desert with a single cut-throat for companion ? ” 

“ Don’t be an ass, Edmund ; but if you know 
anything about the business, tell me how we’re 
going to get camels here? ” 

“ From the Arabs,” said Captain Welfare; 
“ there’s a tribe of them always in camp at this 
time of year a little inland of where we’re going 
to land you. At least so Jakoub says, and he 
knows the district. They’ll be getting in their 
barley crop now. They do some camel breeding 
here too. Jakoub says he is sure to find them 
here, because the calves will be still too young 
to go on trek. You’ll see now, Mr. Davoren, how 
we’re bound to depend on Jakoub in a business 
like this is.” 


136 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

“ I suppose it would be impossible,” I sug¬ 
gested, “ to find an Arab with Jakoub’s knowledge, 
who was not also a scoundrel ? ” 

“ I don’t believe,” said Welfare solemnly, " that 
such a man exists. A straight man couldn’t 
know all Jakoub knows.” 

This remark silenced me. I had so often myself 
observed this inverse ratio between knowledge 
and virtue. 

At dinner that evening I was somewhat oppressed 
by the feeling that it was probably my last night 
on the Astarte. We had been such good friends 
on board. The little cabin had come to look so 
familiar and so homelike to me ; the whole experi¬ 
ence had been so strange and withal so delightful 
to me, that I could not but feel saddened at the 
thought of leaving it all. Instinctively I shrank 
a little from the unknown and solitary experiences 
that awaited me in a strange land. 

I knew too that I would be missed, if only 
because three are much better company than 
two—where men are concerned at all events. 
Without conceit I knew I should be missed in 
a much deeper sense than that. I am one of 
those insignificant but comerless people who make 
a good third in such close quarters as ours were, 
and I was conscious that Edmund and Captain 
Welfare liked each other the better for my presence. 

Captain Welfare openly expressed his regret 
at my impending departure, and it required some 
skilled manoeuvring on the part of Edmund and 
myself to head him away from another speech. 

“ By the way,” I said, “ you have forgotten 
to tell me what your plans are after you leave 
me, and when we are to meet again ? ” 

“ Oh ! we’ll pick you up in Alexandria in a 


I MOUNT A CAMEL 


137 

few days,” said Edmund. “ We’ll see you off 
home, unless you make up your mind to continue 
the cruise.” 

“ I wish that were possible,” I said regretfully ; 
“ but it isn’t.” 

“ When we put you ashore, sir,” said Captain 
Welfare, “ we’ll get out to sea as best we can, 
and get in the regular track of boats bound to 
Alexandria. If the police are on the look-out 
for Jakoub, they’ll board us either there or when 
we’re signalled at the harbour. I only wish you 
knew as much about the Gyppie police as we do, 
and could enjoy the laugh same as we will.” 

There was an unusual vindictiveness in Captain 
Welfare’s tone that made me wonder for a moment 
what were the experiences that had so prejudiced 
him against this branch of the public service. 

But this was not a time for uncharitable thoughts, 
and I put this one aside. 

“ By the way,” Edmund said, ” we’ll have 
to look you out some clothes. I presume you 
didn’t bring any tropical kit ? ” 

“No,” I told him ; “ Bates fixed me up with 
these blue serge things and several pairs of white 
flannel trousers, most of which I am afraid I have 
soiled. He has also included a complete clerical 
rig-out, without which he never allows me to 
travel.” 

“ Good ! ” said Edmund. “You have got some 
dog-collars then ? Bates is a pearl of great price. 
That is the only thing that was worrying me.” 

“ He has packed some clerical collars and a 
stock, if that’s what you mean.” 

“ What on earth is a stock ? ” Edmund asked. 

" It is the black silk thing below what you 
call a dog-collar. The two combined are the 


138 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

symbol of the Apostolic Succession. A stud, 
or a button-hole in front, is a split—the stigma 
of Schism. It is commonly associated with a 
white tie, an arrogant assumption of individual 
blamelessness only possible in a heretic.’ ’ 

“ Well now, that’s something I never under¬ 
stood before,” said Captain Welfare. “ You mean 
a church parson isn’t better than another man, 
or don’t reckon to be, outside of his official position ? 
Out of his uniform, eh ? ” 

“ I don’t know that I meant all that,” I said, 
rather taken aback by this literal interpretation 
of my frivolous talk. ‘'I’m not much of a theo¬ 
logian, but I think what you say is something 
very like the Anglican idea.” 

** Well, I like it,” he said; " I’ve known preachers 
at home as has worn the biggest kind of white 
ties, and it’s some of their ways as has stuck in 
my gizzard and made me the back-slider I am. 
Mr. Davoren, when I get ashore, I'd like to join 
your church. I’d take it kindly if you’d baptise 
me, sir.” 

I said I should be delighted. I did not see 
what else I could say under the circumstances, 
although I have a rooted objection to proselytes 
of every description. 

" The question is,” said Edmund impatiently, 
” whether Welfare’s drill kit or mine would fit 
you best ? We’ve both got plenty of clean spare 
suits, and I can rig you up with a pith helmet. 
I was only worried about the collar. You won’t 
want one in the desert; but it’s rather important 
you should turn up in Alexandria in clerical kit.” 

” I can manage that all right,” I said indiffer¬ 
ently. “ I suppose my own clothes would be 
too warm ? ” 


I MOUNT A CAMEL 


*39 

“Much too warm. You couldn’t stand them,' 

Edmund spoke decisively and I sighed, for I 
dislike wearing clothes that have not been made 
for me. Edmund is two inches taller than me, 
and of late I have shown distinct signs of what 
my father used to call “ the elderly spread." On 
the other hand Captain Welfare, though about 
my own height, is immensely larger in all his other 
dimensions. 

There is however, fortunately, a remarkable 
flexibility about men’s clothes, and I was able 
to pick out a couple of suits which I could wear 
with comfort and without loss of self-respect. 
Indeed I cam say more than that. So persistent 
is human vanity that I found myself admiring 
my own appearance in the clean white drill. It 
gave me, I thought, a look of youth and distir > 
tion to which I imagined I had long since renounced 
all claims. 

Edmund caught me in front of the mirror decid¬ 
ing on the most becoming tilt of the pith helmet. 
This persistence of the peacock in one’s nature 
is very disturbing. 

I was woken very early in the morning by a 
rattle which shook the whole ship. I started 
up and realised that it was the anchor chain run¬ 
ning out. My long journey in the Astarte was 
at an end. 

I went straight on deck, and saw the desert 
close to me for the first time. 

The sun had not yet risen, but the dawn was 
foretold by a lilac glow in the east where Venus 
still shone illustrious as a morning star. 

The Astarte was at anchor in a little cove, 
evidently the one I had been shown on the chart, 
for on my left I could see in the twilight the tall 


140 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

sandhills mentioned by Welfare. They were 
strangely carved by the wind to sharp, delicately 
curved edges with a surpassing beauty of line. 
Beside them on a lower level rose the little rounded 
dome of the sheikh’s tomb, over which leaned 
a single tall, crooked date palm. Away to the 
right of this the sand stretched to the horizon 
in wave after wave, yellow and silver in the faint 
light, with violet shadows between the vast undula¬ 
tions, and a few black patches of camel-scrub 
here and there. 

The wind had almost gone. It ruffled the sea 
outside to a dark grey, but around us in the little 
bay the water lay silent., polished and opalescent 
under the growing dawn. 

The dinghy was already being rowed ashore, 
and I recognised Jakoub’s back, sitting crouched 
like a bird of prey in the stern-sheets. 

The crew were busy getting the sails off the 
ship and stowing them. They worked quickly 
and in a strange uncamty silence. 

Edmund and Captain Welfare were both on 
deck, already dressed. They stood together watch¬ 
ing the crew, and speaking almost in whispers 
with an unwonted look of anxiety on their faces. 
Captain Welfare kept searching the shore with 
his telescope. 

Very soon I saw the morning star fade out in 
a red glare that filled the east, and then the sun 
came up, climbing swiftly from the horizon. For 
a moment the desert sparkled with the lustre 
of jewellery ; then the effect passed, and its sur¬ 
face settled into the burning yellow and white 
of the common light of day. 

But the smooth shallow sea of the desert’s mar¬ 
gin turned from the pearly opalescence of the 


I MOUNT A CAMEL 


I 4 I 

dawn to a glory of blue such as I had never imag¬ 
ined. It was not the blue of the sea or sky, but 
the incredible blue of a butterfly’s wing. It 
brought to my mind childhood's dream-pictures 
of the glory of the river that flows round the Throne 
of God, and my heart ached with the splendour 
of it. 

The sun came as a tyrant. It seemed to take 
but a few moments before he was clear of the 
vapour of the horizon, and the heat of the day 
had begun. 

I went below to my cabin. I dressed myself, 
and sorrowfully bestowed what I needed for my 
journey in a hold-all. 

The hot day seemed intolerably long. I lay 
on deck trying in vain to read. Their manifest 
anxiety kept Edmund and Welfare in an irritable 
silence. 

The cases I was to take with me were brought 
on deck. They were roped and sealed, and the 
word “ Anticas ” was painted on the outside in 
large black letters, with some Arabic characters 
below which I took to be a translation of this lie. 

The boat was lowered and they were stowed 
in it with my hold-all and all brought ashore and 
laid on the beach. There was nothing more to 
do, and by four o’clock our nervous tension was 
becoming almost unbearable when the sandy 
sky-line was broken by the tall silhouette of a 
camel, with a man mounted on it, advancing 
majestically towards us. 

Captain Welfare had a long look at him through 
the glass. 

“ Thank God ! ” he said. “ It’s Jakoub all right. 
The others must be following him.” 

Jakoub put his camel into a trot and came 


142 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

rapidly down to the beach. I watched with 
anticipatory dread the process of making the 
camel kneel, or as it seemed to me, fold itself up. 
Jakoub sprang lightly off and tied the animal's 
nose-rope round one of its knees to secure it. The 
camel stretched its long neck along the ground 
and began nosing in the sand for something eat¬ 
able. 

Jakoub came out in the dinghy and was aboard 
in a few minutes. 

Captain Welfare met him, and coming aft 
announced, with a look of relief, that the baggage 
camels and one for me were only a mile or so 
behind Jakoub. 

“ We're lucky," he said, "‘for I think there 
is a land breeze coming up, and the sooner we're 
out of this the better. I only hope for your sake, 
Mr. Davoren, it isn't a ‘ khamsin.' I’d bq sorry 
if you made the acquaintance of the desert in a 
sand-storm." 

I went below to finish my packing. Hassan showed 
me with pride the hamper of provisions and wines 
he had provided for the journey, together with 
two great water-jars. 

When I came back on deck, rather self-conscious 
in my white suit and helmet, I saw the camels 
crouching on the beach, and heard with dread 
their deep guttural grumblings and threatenings 
as their loads were roped on to them. 

But what surprised me most of all was the 
sudden appearance among us of a stranger. This 
was a young clean-shaved Egyptian of the middle 
class, dressed in a suit of drab linen with a tar¬ 
boosh on his head. 

Edmund laughed as he came up to us with 
an obsequious salaam. 


I MOUNT A CAMEL 143 

“ Let me introduce you iu your dragoman,” 
he said. 

Then as the man looked up with a smile of 
insufferable insolence, I saw that it was Jakoub ! 

He was not merely disguised by clothes; it 
was the total change of the consummate artist. 
It seemed that he was another man. He had 
deliberately revealed himself by his smile, and 
when that faded from his face, it was impossible 
even to think of him as Jakoub, utterly impossible 
to recognise him. 

Edmund drew me aside. 

“ You’re not in the least likely to want this,” 
he said, “ but you never know. You had better 
have it in case-” 

He gave me a revolver, which I had unwillingly 
to put in my pocket. It seemed an enormous 
size and weight, and I always have a feeling that 
these things go off of themselves. Still, when 
I thought of Jakoub, I was glad to have it. 

” Here’s another dozen rounds,” said Edmund, 
“ you can give me the lot back in Alexandria.” 

The crew were already busy making sail under 
Welfare’s directions. 

I said good-bye to him with great regret. Ed¬ 
mund came ashore with me in the dinghy. 

I looked back and said, “ Do you know this 
is the first time I have seen the Astarte from out¬ 
side ? ” 

“So it is,” said Edmund. “ Well, she’s pretty, 
isn’t she ? ” 

She looked very beautiful lying there, ” Idle 
as a painted ship upon a painted ocean,” her lines 
aspiring to the tall pointed bows and the noble 
length of her bow-sprit, her tall pointed sails drooping 
gracefully to their own reflection in the water. 



144 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

" I am very, very sorry to leave her,” I said. 

“ I hope,” said Edmund gravely, “ that what¬ 
ever happens you’ll always keep a kindly feeling 
for her in your heart.” 

Edmund led me up to my camel. The brute 
slewed its head round and eyed us with a super¬ 
cilious and malevolent expression that reminded 
me of Jakoub. It kept its mouth open, ready 
to protest against whatever was done to it, show¬ 
ing a great bunch of teeth in its lower jaw. As 
we approached it made a noise as if it were gargling 
its throat. 

“ All you’ve to do,” said Edmund, “is to nip 
on to the saddle quickly and hang on to this 
wooden upright. He’ll start getting up the minute 
you’re on and that throws you about a bit, but 
once he’s on his feet you’ll be all right and quite 
comfortable. Cross your feet over his left shoul¬ 
der, and hold on to the upright at first till you’re 
used to the motion. Keep him in a sort of half 
trot if you can, it’s less tiring than walking. But 
he’ll follow Jakoub’s beast anyhow.” 

“ What am I to do if he runs away ? ” 

" He won’t do that. He’ll keep in the string 
all right.” 

I watched Jakoub mount, and with a great 
effort of will-power followed his example. 

I stretched one leg over the brute and was pull¬ 
ing myself into my seat to an accompaniment 
of appalling growls, when an earthquake seemed 
to take place. I was flung forward, then back¬ 
wards and forwards again, and shot up skywards 
at the same time, but remained safe on the bundle 
of mats they called a saddle. I found myself 
at a dizzy height with the camel’s greyish white 
neck stretched out a long way below me, and a 


I MOUNT A CAMEL 


145 

single slender rope in my hand to guide him 
with. 

However, the brute stood quiet. He was now 
silent and showed no disposition to do untoward 
things. 

“ Well done/' Edmund called up to me; " you’ll 
be all right now." 

“ I’m all right," I said, " unless he turns round 
and chews my feet." 

“ He's a tame beast. Don’t be uneasy. Good¬ 
bye." 

He reached up and I managed to catch his 
hand. 

“ Good luck," he said. 

“ Good-bye." 

As he went back to the dinghy, I could hear 
the click of the Astarte’s windlass getting up the 
anchor. Our string of camels moved off across 
the sandhills, and I felt nervous, insecure, and 
very lonely. 


K 


CHAPTER VIII 


WE ARE CAUGHT IN A KHAMSIN 

A S I got used to the apparent insecurity 
of my position and the rocking motion 
* which the camel’s gait imposes on one, 
I began to find something soothing in the slow 
but dignified progression. The vast monotony 
of the desert had a hypnotic effect, and I was even 
anxious lest I might fall asleep and slip from my 
lofty perch. 

The heat was most oppressive, and I noticed a 
new quality in the slight wind. It was from the 
south, a quarter it had not blown from before, 
and it came in puffs like a breath from the opened 
door of a furnace ; a dry fierce heat that burned 
one’s cheek and made the eyes smart. In the 
full glare of the afternoon sun, the desert was 
disappointing in its monotony. I had read novels 
full of “ word-painting ” and gush about the 
“ mystery and wonder ” of the desert. I had seen 
it in a moment of iridescent loveliness at dawn. 
But now there was neither mystery nor beauty : 
it was just sand, sand and loose stones, stretching 
everywhere in billows to the ring of the horizon. 
The ridges of sand hid nothing but other ridges, 
and hollows full of sand. I found I hated it. 

Away to the south, in the wind’s eye, the horizon 
was darkened by a strange haze, yellowish brown, 

146 


WE ARE CAUGHT IN A KHAMSIN 147 

rising slowly higher in the sky, a queer, unnatural, 
threatening cloud. 

There were three Arab boys who trudged along 
beside the baggage camels, occasionally addressing 
what sounded like insults to them. I thought they 
looked uneasily from time to time at the southern 
sky, and tried to hurry the unwilling camels. 

The hot wind blew every moment stronger 
and more steadily, and now it blew up a cloud of 
dust and sand from the shuffling feet of the camels. 

Jakoub rode on ahead with a mounted Arab, 
whom I took to be the owner, or at least the hirer 
of the camels. 

We were travelling about east-sou’-east, our 
route making an acute angle with the coast. After 
about an hour’s going, the desert rose to a stony 
ridge where there was an outcrop of some pale 
fossiliferous rock which lay in flat slabs like an 
artificial pavement. Turning to look back from 
the summit of this ridge I found I could see the 
sea again. It was ruffled and grey. Darker 
“ cat’s-paws ” flew over it here and there, and 
already the waves were beginning to curl and show 
white gleams of foam. 

The Astarte was visible near the skyline, standing 
out to sea with a free sheet. My heart yearned 
after her, as I thought of the familiar cosy saloon 
and the friendly faces I had left. 

Jakoub halted his camel and waited till I came 
up. He sak m ed respectfully, perfect in his 
part of dragoman, and rode side by side with me. 

“ It will be a bad night, effendi,” he said. ” It 
is a khamsin.” 

“ Well, I suppose we must grin and bear it.” 

I spoke boldly, though I quailed at the word 
khamsin; I had heard so much of this dreaded wind. 


i 4 8 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

“ As long as the camels will travel/’ he said. 

‘ But the sky looks as if it will be a very bad sand¬ 
storm.” 

“ How far is it to this place we are going to ? ” 

“ If the camels go well, we might do it in six 
hours, in five hours from now. But it will be 
difficult to find the place in a sand-storm.” 

“ What is this ruin ? Another Sheikh’s tomb ? ” 

“ No, no. This very great ruin. How do you 
call a mosque of the ancients ? ” 

“ A temple ? ” 

“ That is it. It is the Temple of Osiris. Very 
grand ruin. There is plenty shelter there for 
all, camels and all.” 

“Is there any shelter nearer ? ” 

“ We could go back where I fetch the camels 
from. About two hours now.” 

“ How long will this storm last ? ” 

“ It is a khamsin ; it may last three days.” 

“ Then we must go on and find the temple if 
we can.” 

“It is as your Excellency wishes.” 

I had almost forgotten it was Jakoub speaking 
through the mouth of this pleasant respectful 
servant, but now he added with a touch of the 
familiarity I loathed, “ If anyone is looking for 
Jakoub he will not find him in a khamsin.” 

I ignored this remark. 

“ And they will not find wlr „ camels are 
loaded with,” he said with his r asolent sneer. 

I could have chastised him w scorpions, but 
I maintained silence, and only looked my disap¬ 
proval. I knew silence was more dignified than 
any speech to such a man; besides, I had no doubt 
at the time that he was trying to find out from 
me what the packing-cases contained. 


WE ARE CAUGHT IN A KHAMSIN 149 

But there was in his smile a suggestion that 
we shared some vile secret; a suggestion which 
gave me nausea of the soul. 

He trotted forward and rejoined his companion, 
and at once I heard an order shouted to the foot- 
boys, who began belabouring their camels, and the 
whole procession moved forward at a mended pace. 

I ventured to guide my camel a little to the right 
so as to bring it to windward of the baggage camels 
and out of the dust their feet stirred up. I was 
gratified to find the animal obedient, even obsequious. 

Then the wind suddenly grew stronger. I 
cannot say it freshened, for it came as a hot blast 
that burned and threatened. The surface of the 
desert seemed to slide away from the camel’s feet, 
as the loose sand shifts away with a receding wave 
in shallow water. It made me giddy to look 
down at it. The air became dark, opaque with 
the sand blown up from a thousand miles of red- 
hot desert. 

The particles of sand drove and pricked my 
skin. Sand filled my eyes and nostrils and stuck to 
the streaming surface of my sweating face and 
hands. I had to keep close to the baggage animals. 
I had a horror of losing touch with them, in this 
new strange opacity. 

I knew that if I found myself alone I should 
go mad with horror. I felt the beast under me 
tremble with some similar terror, and for the first 
time there was sympathy between us. 

The scorching wind hummed in my ears with a 
strange thin sound, mingled with the hiss of the 
moving sand. It made my helmet a maddening 
incumbrance, and set loose parts of my clothes and 
the corners of the rugs I sat on flapping. 

The flying sand was all around us now, and sky 


150 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

and sun were blotted out. I knew that the sun 
was near its setting and dreaded to think of the 
darkness of night added to this new terrifying 
darkness. 

A blank misery of fear settled down upon me, 
and I cursed the wretchedness of my discomfort. 

It seemed impossible that I should be here, 
perched unfamiliarly on the back of a camel, unpro¬ 
tected and wretched amid the unknown dangers 
of this horror of the sand. The thought of my 
home came to me, of Bates and Mrs. Rattray ! 
What had brought me here ? 

The darkness became denser and denser and 
I felt that the sun had set. But it’s going brought 
no coolness. The burning wind seemed now to 
parch my lungs. My camel was pressed up to the 
baggage animals, its nose almost touching the 
tail of the beast before it. It evidently shared 
my dread of finding itself alone. • 

Much as I hated Jakoub it was a relief- when 
he again joined me. 

“You all raight, effendi ? ” he asked. 

'* All right,” I said. I would not expose my 
craven fear to him. I could have found it in my 
heart to bless him when he handed me a bottle 
of tepid water. As a rule I hate drinking out of a 
bottle. I have seldom done it, I have not got the 
knack. The motion of the camel did not make 
it easier, and some of the precious water ran over 
my chin and down my neck. Nevertheless that 
was the most precious drink of all my life-time. 

“ Shall we be able to find the way ? ” I asked. 

“ Oh yes, we will find it. The camels know,” 
said Jakoub, “ but we must not halt. It might 
be impossible to make them start again.” 

” I don’t want to halt.” 


WE ARE CAUGHT IN A KHAMSIN 151 

“ Good. The effendi is very strong, what you 
call * very hard/ is it not ? There will be times 
when we will be able to see a little with the moon, 
when the sand will not be so thick in the air to 
blind us. So, we will find the temple and rest.” 

The man’s confidence encouraged me and I could 
not but admire it in face of the wrath of Nature. 

Every joint of me ached with the ungainly 
motion of my mount, and my skin was become 
as sodden paper. A stream of tears cut channels 
in the dust that plastered my face. Sometimes 
the darkness lightened a little, and a greenish 
light filtered through the sand from the invisible 
moon, reminding me of the faint light that comes 
down through the water in glazed tanks of a darkened 
aquarium. 

I could now just see the pale hindquarters of the 
beast in front of me, and the long neck and head 
of my own solemnly bowing as it went. 

I do not know how long this torment lasted, 
for I lost all count of time. My only fear was 
lest the camels should stop in their march, and 
I counted every painful step a gain. 

I had reached the stage of half-conscious misery 
when suddenly the wind seemed to cease blowing. 
There were harsh guttural shouts from the Arab 
boys, and the camels stopped. Then I felt rather 
than saw the loom of a vast building beside me on 
my right. 

An Arab boy came and took the head-rope from 
my hand, and dragging at it he made a noise as 
though he was clearing his throat of all the colds 
that ever afflicted humanity. Again I was flung 
backwards and forwards as my camel folded itself 
up and came to rest on the ground. I slid off 
too weak in the knees even to get out of the range 


152 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

of its teeth. But the poor beast made no assault 
on me, and I felt that it had carried me faithfully 
and well and was grateful. 

I saw a match struck, and Jakoub came up 
with a lantern. My heart faintly warmed to him. 

“ All- raight, effendi ? ” he asked again. 

“ All right/’ I said. “You have done well 
to find this place on such a night, Jakoub.” 

“The camels have the wisdom that Allah has 
bestowed,” he answered quite simply and humbly. 

I came nearer liking him then than at any moment 
of our short intercourse. But I distrusted him 
profoundly all the same, and the pressure of 
Edmund’s revolver -against my hip was a kind of 
comfort to me. 

“ This way, effendi,” he said, making a kind 
of servile sweep with his lantern. 

I followed him into what I took at first to be 
a cave. But there was a hot draught and sand 
blowing through it, and the swinging light of Jakoub’s 
lantern lit up great blocks of stone that must have 
been placed there by human agency. I don’t 
know why, but I followed him more willingly 
when I realised that I was among the work of human 
hands, however many thousand years they had 
been dead, than I would have followed into some 
crevice that represented a mere process of Nature. 
My feeling about Jakoub demanded human allies, 
however remote in time. 

I realised that this was some gateway or entrance 
in the vast building that had saved us from the 
sand-storm. 

Jakoub turned sharply to the left, and I followed 
him through a narrow entrance where I had to 
stoop among enormous blocks of stone. 

I found myself in a moderate-sized chamber. 


WE ARE CAUGHT IN A KHAMSIN 153 

As far as I could see by the feeble light it was 
built entirely of stone. Some of the stone was 
blackened as though by fire. There was another 
opening in the great stone-work that looked like 
the beginning of a narrow staircase. But I was 
too tired for exploration. The floor was soft 
sand, and there was no wind blowing here. 

I sat down thankfully and began scooping dust 
out of my eyes. 

Two of the Arab boys who had walked by the 
baggage camels came in with rugs and mats, and 
the hamper packed by Hassan. 

Jakoubgave them directions in their own language, 
and all these people busied themselves about 
providing for my comfort. 

I asked myself why I hated Jakoub, and how 
I knew that he despised me. I did not know 
these Arab boys at all. If among them they 
had decided to put me to death, they would have 
an easy task. They might have done it before 
I could even have pointed my revolver at them. 

Jakoub skilfully made a kind of couch for me 
with the rugs, and opened the hamper. Hassan 
had packed enough to keep me for a week, so there 
was no need to economise. I did not know what 
provisions Jakoub or the Arabs might have. After 
all he had so far served me well. I offered him 
some meat and bread, which he gratefully accepted. 

“ I suppose,” I said, ” you do not drink wine, 
Jakoub ? ” 

" I keep the fast of Ramadan, Excellency,” he 

said, “ but for the rest of the year-” He ended 

with a shrug and a smile which seemed to suggest 
his belief in the tenderness of Allah towards human 
nature which could not always live up to the exacting 
standard of the Prophet. 



154 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

“ The wind has burned the roots of my tongue 
and the sand grates in the gateway of my lungs/’ 
he added apologetically, as he drank off the tumbler 
of Burgundy I handed him. 

The wine revived him and I realised that he 
too had been suffering from the exhaustion of our 
terrible ride, but had waited on me before refreshing 
himself. 

I finished my strange picnic alone in this dim 
vault of some old forgotten worship; then lying down 
on the outspread rug, I slept profoundly in the sand. 

When I awoke a faint daylight was trickling 
in through a kind of irregular hole or tunnel in 
the titanic masonry that surrounded me. A 
distant humming of the wind recalled to my mind 
the horrors of the storm outside, and I knew it 
had not abated. During the night, sand had 
drifted even into this chamber of mine. I was 
covered with it as I lay, and I noticed it piled up 
like snow against the farther wall. 

But someone, Jakoub I knew it must be, had 
left a canvas bucket of water beside me, and I 
was able to have the wash my soul was craving for. 

The faint light made me think that it was dawn, 
although the heat even here was oppressive, but 
looking at my watch I found it was twelve o’clock ! 
I had slept for ten hours. At first I could hardly 
move my aching limbs. 

But the healing touch of the water restored me. 
My parched skin seemed to absorb it, and my 
courage, such as it was, became restored. J began 
to take a kind of pleasure in the sense of adventure, 
and thought with pride of the story I should have 
for the other old fogies at the Athenaeum ! 

If I had had a companion I should have been 
happy, but it was lonely work as it was. 


WE ARE CAUGHT IN A KHAMSIN 155 

I made a table of my hamper, and breakfasted 
heartily on lukewarm ham and the remains of 
the bottle of wine I had broached over-night. 

Then I began to explore my surroundings. 

I went down the short narrow passage leading 
from the chamber, and found that it opened into 
what looked at first like a tunnel through, which the 
wind and the sand still raved. This tunnel I found 
was really a gateway piercing a vast wall, in the 
thickness of which my chamber was built. I turned 
to the right retracing our steps of the night before 
and came out into the day, which I found was 
darkened by the sand-storm. I huddled under 
the lee of the great wall, and I could see the camels 
were still lying there in a row, placidly chewing 
the cud with a queer sideways movement of their 
jaws. The nearest turned its head and looked 
at me with a sneer of ineffable contempt. 

I went back and found that opposite to the 
passage which led to my chamber was another 
similar opening. 

Listening I heard the deep tierce tones of Arabic 
talk and a man laughing. I guessed there must 
be another chamber there where Jakoub and 
the Arabs had taken refuge. I felt I would be 
glad of even Jakoub's society, but shyness prevented 
my seeking him, shyness and nothing else ! 

I returned to my chamber, intent on exploring 
the staircase or passage I had seen leading from it. 

The opening led, as I thought, to remains of a 
broken staircase, roughly spiral, in the thickness 
of the great wall. Many of the steps were broken 
away, and I was soon in darkness. I came back, 
shuddering, for Jakoub’s lantern which he had 
left with me, and stiff and sore and frightened 
as I was, I clambered up and up and came at last 


156 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

out into the rushing, blinding storm again, on 
the top of the vast wall of the Temple. 

It was broken into irregular masses of enormous 
masonry, and must originally have been some twenty 
feet in width. The tunnel piercing the botton of 
the wall was forty feet in length, and I guessed 
I must be about sixty feet above the ground. But 
the storm drove me down before I could form 
any estimate of its length, or discover how much 
of the building existed. I could see nothing through 
the driving sand. 

I came back to my chamber, which had already 
begun to seem home-like to me, and Jakoub was 
there waiting for me. 

I was glad to see him. I think I would have 
been glad of the company of an orang-utan, if 
adequately chained, for I was finding out what a 
horrible thing solitude can be although it was 
not twenty-four hours since I had parted with 
Edmund and Welfare. 

Jakoub greeted rfte with his invariable “ all 
raight ? ” and I grunted at him for reply. I felt I had 
a reputation as an English gentleman to maintain. 

” We cannot start the camels to-day, effendi,” 
he went on, “ the sand is still very bad.” 

“ We didn’t reckon to travel to-day,” I reminded 
him. “ What about to-night ? ” 

He shrugged his shoulders in his disgustingly 
expressive w r ay. 

“ No good, effendi. The camels would not 
put their heads—I mean what you call—face 
it. It may blow all to-morrow again, or it might 
stop to-night.” 

“ Well, we’ve got to wait for it then, and not 
worry,” I answered irritably. “ How are you 
and the other fellows off for food ? ” 


WE ARE CAUGHT IN A KHAMSIN 157 

“ We have enough to eat. The others like the 
Excellency’s white bread if there is any to spare. 
The wine made paradise of my stomach.” 

I gave him a loaf of bread and a bottle of wine. 

“ What about water ? ” I asked. 

“ There is here a very good well. All the water 
bottles I have filled. The camels have drunk 
when they did not expect. They give thanks. 
But the sand drives even here and there is to-day 
and to-night. If the effendi likes and will come 
five minutes through the storm I can show him 
better shelter. Very good place, no wind, no 
sand, very cool place.” 

I was used now to the place I was in, and averse 
from changing it until I started back to civilisation. 
I was profoundly distrustful of Jakoub, and I did 
not like the idea of going out again into that sting¬ 
ing storm. 

But the man offered me better quarters. I 
had no good reason for refusing to try them. I 
was determined not to seem to fear him, and my 
wretched shyness prevented me from discussing 
the matter and questioning him as any sensible 
man would have done. 

" Very well,” I said, “ go on.” 

He led me out again and we trod the ankle- 
deep sand past where the camels lay. They were 
of course unloaded and looked very contented 
and supercilious. 

We reached the limit of the great wall, and I 
could just see that it was only one part of a vast 
building; we were at an angle where another 
wall met it. But the driving sand hid all the 
mysteries of the structure. Jakoub led me away 
from the Temple, and down the slope of a ridge 
on which it seemed to be built. I had to keep my 


158 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

head down for protection from the moving sand, 
but even so I could see that I was stumbling over 
masses of broken, worthless pottery. I passed 
fragments of marble pillars and fractured capitals 
lying in the sand. My feet slid on the loose sand 
covering a portion of tessellated pavement. 

There had been Greek artists here, and I knew 
that, as I suspected, I was among the ruins of 
some old Ptolemaic pleasaunce and place of worship. 

Jakoub stopped. 

“ Down here, effendi,” he called through the 
wind, pointing to a hole that the moving sand 
had silted up but could not fill. 

I hesitated. It was like being invited to go 
down a rabbit-burrow. Jakoub disappeared down 
the hole, and his lean, brown, beautiful hand 
alone was left inviting me to follow. 

I took his hand and went down after him. It 
was impossible to hesitate, alone there in that 
blinding hurricane. I slid down through sand, 
and sand followed my clumsy descent like an 
avalanche. Then I found my feet on rock. I 
felt my way down a rough descent, with Jakoub's 
loathed assistance, and I found myself on level 
solid ground in total darkness. 

Jakoub had brought his lantern and lit it at once. 

At first I could see nothing but his hated face, 
smiling into mine. 

“ All raight here, effendi," he said, and behind 
him I saw all the packing-cases the camels had 
carried. 

Although I had seen the camels were relieved 
of their loads, I had never thought of how the 
things might be bestowed. I had thought of nothing 
but my own discomfort, and had accepted all 
Jakoub’s efforts to lessen it. He and his Arabs 


WE ARE CAUGHT IN A KHAMSIN 159 

must have worked hard to get all this merchandise 
down here, while I slept. I recognised that he 
did not despise me without some reason. 

Of course Edmund or Welfare would have seen 
the stuff bestowed before anything else. I had 
shown myself a mere passenger. 

Jakoub saw me looking at the packing-cases. 

" They would be hard to find here, like Jakoub,” 
he said. 

I took the lantern from him, and began to examine 
the cave, for such I took it to be. 

I found myself in a large rectangular chamber 
hewn out of the solid rock that here closely underlay 
the desert sand. 

At one end of it 1 found a grave-like excavation 
about three feet deep and six feet long. I saw 
the remains of an earthenware pipe leading into 
it, and turned away with an involuntary shudder. 

In the opposite wall there was a narrow pointed 
opening. I had to stoop to go through it, and 
found myself in a circular chamber. There were 
low seats, or sediiia, carved in the rock all around, 
and over each seat a square niche cut in the rock. 
In the centre were the broken remains of a slab 
of rock which could only have been an altar. 

I did not know what hateful rites had been 
celebrated on it, but everything told me I was 
in a place of ancient secret worship. I recalled 
a smattering recollection of Mithraic superstition 
with its blood-bath. That was probably the 
meaning of the grave-like place with its conduit. 
Here men had hidden themselves from the light 
of day 2,000 years ago, and here a man lost now 
would never be recovered. 

Jakoub smiled in my face. I put my hand 
on the revolver. If this were a trap he had led 


i6o A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 


me into, I swore to myself that he should die in 
it too. 

"No sand comes here,” he said. "The effendi 
will be cool while we wait.” 

It was evident that the man was still considering 
only my comfort. My fears of him were nothing 
but the cowardice of jangled nerves. 

The two Arab boys joined us, bearing my rugs 
and hamper, some extra candles, and a copy of 
The Contemporary Review with an article of my 
own in it; the sort of encumbrance that clings 
so long to civilised man. And under Jakoub’s direc¬ 
tions they proceeded to make a kind of couch for 
me, where I should be able to spend the hours before 
us in comparative comfort. 

Then they left me. I began to read my own 
article in the review, but I found that matters 
that had once seemed intensely interesting and 
important had become profoundly boring, and I 
slept. 

I suppose it was exhaustion, but I slept most 
of tha J Jtemoon. I fed again and went to sleep 
again. So I spent those hours amid circumstances 
that from a distance would have seemed the most 
enthralling. But I had examined this weird subter¬ 
ranean chamber. Its bare rock faces had nothing 
more to tell my ignorance. I had not the knowledge 
or experience to interpret the history that might be 
graven on them. 

I slept again lightly, and not for very long. 
Consciousness returned in the form of uneasiness. 
I was in utter darkness, but awake and alert. 
I was in no uncertainty as to my whereabouts 
or the recent events that had brought me there. 
I was not even quite sure that I had slept. 

I knew I had but to stretch out my hand to find 


WE ARE CAUGHT IN A KHAMSIN i6r 

a box of matches and light my candle, but I found 
I could not make the effort. Fear kept my hand 
immobilised. I can say honestly that it was no 
mere superstitious dread of my surroundings. I 
was perfectly conscious of my unseen environment 
of hewn rock beneath the remote desert. I was 
untroubled by any thought of possible horrors 
enacted there in the distant past. Yet I was 
afraid, afraid of some human presence that I knew 
was there, invisible and unfelt, unheard, yet palpable 
in the darkness and silence which surrounded me. 
I lay there conscious that my face was distorted 
by fear, waiting, longing for something, anything 
that would stimulate any normal human sense. 
I think I could have welcomed the thrust of a 
dagger if it had ended that horrible suspense in the 
darkness of the old subterranean church of a for¬ 
gotten religion. 

Something moved near me and the spell was 
broken. I was aware of myself sitting up, my 
blanket thrown aside, my left arm doubled across 
my face by some defensive instinct. 

“ Who is that ? ” said a voice that must have 
been mine. 

Without knowing what I did, my right hand went 
out and found the matches beside me. The box 
rattled faintly as I grasped it, and before it rattled 
again, before I could move it towards my left hand, 
my hand was seized and held in a soft firm grip. 

I fell backwards again incapable of effort. “No 
light, effendi. Make no sound. There is danger.” 

It was Jakoub's voice, whispering. 

I dreaded and feared the man, yet I knew his 
whisper was not that of my murderer. I felt 
that for the time at all events we were allies against 
some unknown danger threatening us both. 

L 


162 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

“ What is it ? ” I asked, whispering like him. 
“ Let go my hand.” 

“ You will make no light, if my hand leaves 
your hand ? ” 

" No ; not till you tell me. Why are you here ? ” 

The delicate firm pressure of his hand was removed, 
and I was again out of touch with the universe. 
But I was relieved. All those visceral disturbances 
which attend pure fright began to adjust themselves. 
The pumping of my heart ceased to be palpable, 
the rhythm of my breathing was restored, and 
I was conscious that I was no longer making queer 
faces in the dark. These are but normal reactions 
to stimuli, labelled “ cowardice ” by the insensitive. 
I am as little inclined to apologise for them as for 
hunger or sea-sickness. They passed, and reflection 
returned to aid my will. 

“ Why have you come, Jakoub ? ” I asked of 
the darkness. It was strange to speak, not knowing 
in which direction to send my voice, nor whether 
my hearer was close to me or far away. 

“ I must remain here with you, effendi. Those 
who seek me have come. They too shelter from the 
storm. They seek also this that we have brought 
with us. But Allah is merciful, and I remembered 
to put it here where they will not find it.” 

From the sound of Jakoub’s whisper I could 
tell that his usual imperturbability had gone. 
There was fear in every syllable he uttered. Fear 
is said to be contagious, yet I took heart. “ Those 
who sought him ” must be the police. I knew, of 
course, that he was a hunted man. But I had 
nothing to fear from the police, and as yet I had 
no reason to suppose that they were concerned 
with our merchandise. They would, of course, 
examine it if they found it, and that, as Welfare 



WE ARE CAUGHT IN A KHAMSIN 163 

had so carefully explained, would spoil the market 
for our " rare earths for incandescent mantles/' 

I felt that I had nothing to lose by their dis¬ 
covering Jakoub. I shrank from the thought of 
sharing with him a long vigil in this subterranean 
darkness, and his arrest would rescue me from this. 

Even if I wanted to,"however, I could make no 
move to compass his arrest. At present he was 
in a sense my protector, at least my ally. The 
least suspicious move on my part would convert 
him into a deadly and ruthless foe, and I remembered 
how T he had instantly found my hand as though he 
saw in the darkness, while I was blind and helpless. 

Looking back now, I think all these prudential 
calculations passed through my mind really in 
an attempt to justify a feeling of loyalty to what 
was after all my side. However I might hate and 
distrust Jakoub, I was yet pledged in a sense to 
abide by him. 

So I resigned myself to the long wait, crouching 
there in the darkness of our stone vault. 

“ How long will these men stay ? ” I asked at 
length. 

“ When the khamsin ends they will go; unless 
the camel-men betray us.” 

" And can you trust them ? ” 

" I trust no Arab. But they know it is death to 
betray me. But one can come in here at a time. 
Allah is very merciful and my knife is sharp. Many 
would die before Jakoub is taken. If the Excel¬ 
lency will agree now to make no light or sound, 
I go to wait by the entry. It will soon be day and 
a little light will come then. But to one from 
outside it will be dark in here. He would feel the 
knife of Jakoub before he saw it, and then he 
would see no more.” 


164 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

“ Go, Jakoub,” I said, " I will not move.” 

There was no sound but I somehow felt that 
Jakoub was withdrawn from close beside me. 

For a long time, as it seemed to me, I crouched 
there, my hands clasped round my knees, wondering 
if I were destined to be the helpless witness of a 
murder or series of murders. 

But gradually the strain on my mind, the heat 
and the close unchanged air numbed my spirits. 
I sank back thankfully on my rug, and slept as 
soundly as though I were back in my own vicarage. 

I awoke unwillingly and unrested. There was a 
dim light by which I could just discern the graven 
rock that formed the walls and roof of our refuge 
—or our prison. 

It was Jakoub’s voice calling softly that had 
awakened me. I could see the outline of his figure 
squatting like a graven image by the entry, and 
a faint gleam from the blade of his knife. Untiring 
he had watched there motionless while I had slept. 

“ Well, Jakoub ? ” I questioned. 

“ It is day, effendi, and the storm has gone. 
The khamsin has spared us one day. The leader 
of the camels has come, and says my enemies 
have gone. But that may be a trap.” 

I rose wearily and went over to Jakoub. By 
the entry there was a freshness in the air that 
revived me, and I noticed there was no longer any 
humming of the wind. 

“ How shall we know if it is a trap, Jakoub ? ” 

He fondled the knife in his hand, and then looked 
up at me with pleading in his eyes. It was the 
first time he had humbled himself to me, and I 
saw that a vision of the gaol at Tourah was very 
clear to him. 

“ I like not to ask it,” he said at last; " but if 


WE ARE CAUGHT IN A KHAMSIN 165 

the effendi had courage to go first they would not 
harm him, and Jakoub would at least be warned. 
If Jakoub must die, he will take some with him, 
to bear false witness against him before the Prophet. 
But the Prophet is not deceived. He will inter¬ 
cede with Allah, and Allah is merciful to the true 
believer.” 

Nothing could better have restored my self¬ 
esteem than this appeal. I had hitherto been 
entirely dependent on this abhorred protector; 
but now he needed my aid and appealed to my 
courage. 

I said no more, but walked past him and climbed 
up the steep and narrow entry to the desert surface 
above, dazzled indeed by the glare of light, but 
thankful to breathe again the fresh pure air of 
morning that was wafted across by a faint sea- 
breeze. The terrible oppression of the hot wind 
had gone. The sand was at rest. My spirits 
rose as, looking around, I saw no trace of the enemy. 

The sun was just rising and the desert lay once 
more sparkling and burnished beneath its level rays. 

I saw T before me the stately mass of the great 
Temple of Osiris. 

The mighty wall, wherein I had spent the first 
night and morning, was revealed as part of a great 
quadrangle enclosing an enceinte of about 100 yards 
square. 

The wall and the gateway, which I seemed to 
kno\v as a blind man knows things by his sense 
of touch, were the only parts of the building which 
retained any semblance of its original design. The 
rest was a vast tumbled ruin, wrecked by man 
and his unruliness, by Nature and by Time. 

I climbed again to the summit of the great wall 
where I had been the day before. 


166 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

There was a cool refreshing breeze, and I could 
see around me the great ruin, and on the slope 
below it what I took to be the outlines of a Ptolemaic 
pleasure city that had once been busy and important 
under the shadow of the Temple’s walls. 

Now the desert lay utterly barren all round, 
and far in the distance I could just see the sea with 
that bewildering blue of the butterfly’s wing. 

Looking inland I could still make out on the 
horizon a dozen horsemen, and through my field- 
glasses could see the white uniforms, the red tar¬ 
booshes and slung carbines which I presumed 
were worn by mounted police or troopers of the 
Egyptian army. Jakoub’s enemies had certainly 
gone. His cunning and foresight and the labours 
of those old worshippers of Mithras had saved him 
for the time being. 

Below me the Arabs were busy reloading the camels, 
and I was eager to be on the road again, willing 
enough to leave behind me all these relics of ancient 
mystery and magnificence which for me were 
associated with that night of vigil and horror. 

A few hours later the Temple had faded like a 
dream into the sand that surrounded us, as our 
party toiled across the last few miles to the railway. 

We came to it at last, a wavy track follow¬ 
ing the contours of the desert, an iron link with 
civilisation. 

There was a plain stone building for a station, 
and Jakoub was almost immediately in the midst 
of a wordy fracas with the station-master. 

This functionary came out and inspected our 
camels and their loads. He immediately fell 
into a state of almost maniacal excitement. My 
smattering of Arabic was not sufficient to enable 
me to gather more than the merest fragment of 


WE ARE CAUGHT IN A KHAMSIN 167 

his complaint, but he seemed to be calling Allah and 
the Prophet to witness that no freight-train ever 
could or would take such a load as ours was. 

Jakoub let him rave ; but the camel-boys joined 
in, whether on the station-master’s side or against 
him I could not tell. Even the camels put in their 
word. 

When they were all out of breath, Jakoub said 
a few sharp authoritative words which started the 
whole tornado of sound again. 

This happened several times, and then Jakoub 
came up to me. 

" He requires 150 piastres backshish, effendi. There 
is a train coming in half an hour. Had I more 
time I would make him to take less.” 

I was so relieved to know that the train was 
nearly due that I did not grudge the money. 

The camels were unloaded, and their owners 
led them away in dignified gratitude for liberal 
backshish. 

The train came up like a miracle out of the 
desert. 

There was another scene with the guard; but 
now Jakoub had a firm supporter in the station- 
master, and for the consideration of a 100-piastre 
note the whole of our cargo was safely stowed 
on board. 

A feeling of intense relief from responsibility 
came over me as I found myself back in the impos¬ 
sibly familiar surroundings of a first-class compart¬ 
ment, and four hours of heat and dust were the 
end of my physical discomfort. 

Remembering Edmund’s injunction I wiped 
my heated face and neck and donned my clerical 
collar as the train ran into the Gare de Caire at 
Alexandria. 


CHAPTER IX 


THE DOPE TRADE 

I HAVE said that Jakoub had compelled my 
grudging respect as he faced the sand-storm. 
Now I had to recognise in him again a master 
of circumstance, as from a fiercely clamouring 
crowd of apparently hostile natives, and some 
over-excited railway officials, he mobilised a little 
force of porters, and conjured from somewhere 
a kind of wagon, or rather a long beam mounted 
on two pairs of wheels and drawn by a couple 
of under-sized ponies. 

On this he had all our cargo stowed in the time 
an ordinary man would have taken to find a hat- 
box. He had a gharry ready for me, with my 
hold-all on the front seat. Our tickets were 
delivered up, and the crowd more or less pacified 
with backshish. We drove off, watched with 
haughty indifference by a couple of Egyptian 
policemen. 

I was back in the world of men and wires, and 
my first care was to send a cable hojne. 

I had decided on Bates as the recipient of the 
first news of my resurrection. 

So we stopped at the office of the Eastern Tele¬ 
graph Company. 

I had thought out my message during the long 
weeks in which I had been tending to this ganglion 

168 



THE DOPE TRADE 169 

in the nervous system of the world, and I cabled 
simply " Unable to communicate earlier. Return¬ 
ing next boat via Marseilles." 

There was no need to say I was writing, as I 
would be home as soon as a letter, and in any case 
I felt that it would be utterly impossible ever 
to explain why I had been lost so long. I intended 
simply to say that the weather had tempted me 
to a longer cruise than I had contemplated, and 
that I had not had time to write. 

Snape, I felt, would believe this; Bates and 
Mrs. Rattray would not care, so long as I returned 
at last in safety and health ; and some day I 
would tell the whole story to the bishop. There 
was really no one else who would be either curious 
or concerned, though Marshall would doubtless 
be glad not to have to apply to a court of law 
to “ presume my death," and some day I would 
certainly swagger a little in my comer at the 
Athenaeum about my adventure in the sand, 
and my exploration of the Temple of Osiris. 

I had begun to think of myself as more in my 
element at the Savage or the Travellers’ ! 

I posted Captain Welfare’s letter to his agent 
and we arrived at Van Ermengen’s Hotel, a plea¬ 
sant spacious place facing the sea, from which 
it was only separated by the wide tram-girt road 
and the sea-wall. 

Van Ermengen, the proprietor, met us in the 
hall. He was a thin, grave man, with a hard 
face so narrow that his profile seemed to be cut 
out of the edge of it. He had a cramped mouth 
and restless, rather anxious eyes, as colourless 
as his face and hair. 

He received me very graciously, and made no 
difficulty about my wagon-load of packing-cases. 


170 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

He instructed Jakoub, who arranged with the 
hall-porter about their disposal. He seemed very 
anxious to explain to me that he was of English 
“ nationality/ ’ and that his establishment was 
rim on “ English lines/’ He did not seem to 
know Jakoub, and apparently had no curiosity 
about me, not even asking my name, or expecting 
me to write it in a book. 

I suppose it is impossible to take me for any¬ 
thing but a British parson, for he had assumed 
my nationality before' I spoke, and addressed 
me in English. 

It was my first experience of a European hotel 
in the Near East, and I was a little astonished 
at the vast size and the bareness of my bedroom. 
But it was delightfully cool. The sun was just 
setting over the sea on which three tall windows 
of my chamber looked, and the sea-breeze blew 
freshly into the room. I looked out longingly 
with the desire to see the sails of the Astarte com¬ 
ing into port; but there was nothing in sight 
but a couple of feluccas and a distant steamer. 

A window at the side opened on a narrow street, 
and I looked down curiously at the busy Oriental 
scene in the violet transparency that fills the streets 
of Alexandria at sunset. 

Then I went and wallowed long and luxuriously 
in a great bath, and shaved myself decently and 
respectably again. 

After my scorching in the desert the evening 
seemed cool enough for ordinary clothes, and it 
was with a curious sense of luxury that I put 
on the dark clerical suit that had last been folded 
by Bates in my dressing-room at home. 

There were still some minutes before the vaunted 
“ English dinner ” would be served at eight o’clock. 


THE DOPE TRADE 


171 

I lit a cigarette and sat down by an open window 
watching the rapid onset of night and the assem¬ 
bling of the stars. 

Hungry as I was I realised that I was very 
tired. I could have slept where I was; but I 
did not wish to sleep. There was on me that 
feeling of excitement, almost of elation, that comes 
with physical fatigue after a long strain is 
relaxed. 

I was glad to be rid of my queer and rather 
doubtful responsibility, and to have succeeded 
in my first commercial mission, but I regretted 
the end of what had seemed a momentous inter¬ 
lude in my uneventful life. 

It seemed stupid to go straight home, but home 
called me. This was not the season for travel 
in Egypt, and anyhow, the experiences of a tourist 
would seem insipid after my journey over sea 
and land. I decided to revisit the country in 
the orthodox way, perhaps the following winter, 
and meantime I must go home. 

Then into my mind rushed all those mundane 
details inevitable in what we call civilisation, 
which had been banished since I first put foot 
on the deck of the Astarte. 

I had sent word that I would sail by the next 
boat, but now it occurred to me that I might 
not have money enough for the journey. If 
Edmund did not come in time how was I to get 
it ? I knew nobody in this city, and even if my 
bankers cabled money, I was not sure how I could 
draw it without any means of identification. 

I could no doubt find an English banker, or 
consul, or official of some kind, but he would ask 
questions. He would naturally want to know 
why an English clergyman, claiming to have 


I 7 2 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

ample means, found himself suddenly without 
resources in Alexandria ? He would ask had 
I not arranged a letter of credit ? He would 
want to know what boat I had come out by, and 
where I had stopped while in Egypt ? 

The blood rushed to my face as I thought of 
it. Who on earth would believe my tale of the 
Astarte and Jakoub, and my camel-ride, even 
if I dared to tell it ? 

I might make what was left of my money do, 
but I reflected that Jakoub had earned something 
handsome in the way of a tip. He had not only 
refrained from taking my life; he might almost 
be said to have saved it. 

I went down to the big dining-room with my 
mind full of these grovelling details; as certain 
that my connection with the episode of the mer¬ 
chandise was at an end, as I was convinced that 
my muscles ached with fatigue. 

But if we deny the existence of Chance or of 
the Fates we shall have to include a sense of humour K 
among the attributes of the Deity. It was what 
men call Chance that now prolonged the game 
of cup-and-ball the gods were playing with me. 

The head-waiter was indicating my solitary 
table with the extraordinary gesticulations and 
grimaces of his kind, when I heard my name called 
out in a shout of surprise. 

A tall man in the uniform of the Egyptian army 
rose from an adjoining table and came across to 
me, with a beaming smile and outstretched hand. 

“ You don't know me from Adam,” he exclaimed. 

" It's this bally uniform.” 

“ Brogden ! ” I cried, in a flash of recognition. 

“ Good shot! ” he said. " It's jolly to find 
one’s not quite forgotten after all these years. 


THE DOPE TRADE 


173 

What on earth are you doing here ? But you 
must come to my table, and we'll tell each other 
all about ourselves." 

He had me by the arm and walked me across 
the room to his table. 

Again my will had nothing to do with events. 

I watched the waiters doing conjuring tricks 
with knives and forks and napkins, as they re¬ 
arranged the table, and gaped in astonishment 
at my old friend. 

For he was an old friend, once almost my dearest 
friend, although I had forgotten his existence. 

“ I had no idea you were in Egypt," I said. 
“ You went into the Civil Service. I have heard 
nothing of you since." 

“No, you old devil! I wrote you two letters 
and didn’t get an answer. And then—you know 
the way, one loses touch." 

I knew. We went on for a time each making 
the futile excuses and offering the explanations 
that men do for lapsed friendships when they 
are renewed by chance. We had been dear friends 
at Oxford for several terms, and had normally, 
and without unpleasantness, been separated by 
circumstance. There was nothing to apologise 
for. 

The great majority of our friendships are deter¬ 
mined by propinquity. Time and space have 
dominion over more of them than death can 
claim. 

“ I heard of your coming into the Irish estate," 
Brogden was saying. “ I must congratulate you. 
But I see you are still a Padr£. Do you know, 
I have only seen you once before since you were 
ordained ? You're down from Cairo, I suppose ? 
It’s a bit hot there now but I suppose you have 


174 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

finished the usual beat. You got to Assuan, of 
course ? ” 

This was just the kind of cross-examination 
I wanted to avoid. 

“ No,” I said, “ I couldn’t manage Assuan 
this trip. I hope to come next winter; I must 
keep your address. But my tourist experiences 
won’t be very interesting to an old resident. But 
tell me about yourself. How long have you been 
in the army ? ” 

“ Oh, I’m not a pukka soldier,” he explained 
with a laugh, “ though I wear this kit and am 
known as ‘ Brogden Bey ’ ! We Egyptian offi¬ 
cials sometimes trickle in and out of uniform 
as a matter of expediency. I'm really a rather 
superlative kind of policeman at present.” 

“ I don’t understand at all. Let’s hear your 
story right from the beginning.” 

" Well, you remember I passed rather decently 
into the Civil Service ? Eighth or ninth, I think.” 

“ I remember it very well. We rejoiced together 
in town. It was just before I took Orders.” 

“ Yes. I remember that dinner ! I had taken 
a pretty good degree, and after that I had to go 
to an expensive crammer for three months to 
be sure of a decent place in that exam. I was 
nearly at the top in classics, history and law, but 
my higher maths let me down. Good God ! the 
things one knew then ! The Civil Service can¬ 
didate has to do a lot of mental vomiting after 
his exam, before he is quite human again. How¬ 
ever, having demonstrated my amazing acquire¬ 
ments as a scholar, they gave me a job in the 
Printed Book Department of the British Museum. 
I had to lick the labels for the backs of new volumes 
of the Supplementary Catalogue. 


THE DOPE TRADE 175 

“ No, I’m not joking/' he broke off in answer 
to my glance, “ that is literally what I had to 
do. There was a man there who had been doing 
it for twelve years. He had been crammed even 
tighter than me for the exam., and he was quite 
unfit for anything else, poor chap! I didn't 
see my way to become Chief Librarian either, 
and I was frightened of getting cancer of the 
tongue. I wrote to an uncle of mine who was 
then one of Cromer’s men out here, and he got 
me a billet in the Ministry of the Interior. I 
rather took to the languages, and happened to 
make myself useful in the Criminal Investigation 
Department, and—here I am.” 

“But what about the army? What are you 
doing now ? " 

“ Let’s go and have our coffee in the lounge,” 
he said. “ It’s a bit public here for chatting.” 

We found a retired sofa at the end of the wide 
cool lounge, and a white-gowned Arab with crim¬ 
son sash brought us coffee. 

“ What liqueur will you have ? ” asked Brog- 
den. “ Don’t drink before sunset in the hot 
weather, but don’t go to bed teetotal if you want 
to keep fit. Their cognac is not fit to drink with¬ 
out some cura9oa in it.” 

He had evidently taken charge of me; appar¬ 
ently someone always did, so I let him order the 
liqueurs. 

“You haven’t told me yet what you are doing 
now,” I reminded him. 

He bent forward mysteriously and whispered 
one word, “ hashish .” 

I was about to repeat it aloud when he stopped 
me with a gesture. 

“ Don’t shout about it,” he said. “I’m not 


176 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

supposed to talk, and I don’t want even the English 
people here to know what I'm about. But it can't 
matter telling you, and you’d be surprised what 
a relief it is to talk to someone ! " 

I was thankful to have started him on a topic 
that would keep him from Questioning me till 
bedtime. 

“ That's some kind of drug, isn't it ? I remem¬ 
ber it in the Arabian Nights ." 

“ Good Lord ! Where have you put yourself 
in Egypt? Yes, it’s a "kind of drug/ as you 
say." He whispered again, “ It’s Cannabis Indica, 
Indian hemp , in the medical books. We call 
it the other thing. It’s meat and drink, wife 
and family, lunacy and lingering death to the 
Oriental when he gets fond of it. Drink’s a boon 
and a blessing, and opium is mother’s milk to 
it. We’ve stopped it being cultivated, and we’ve 
prohibited its importation. We’re still trying to 
stop its being smuggled. That’s my job at present. 
I’ve been given a semi-military appointment with 
the temporary rank of colonel, Egyptian colonel 
of course, but that’s a blind.’’ 

Any story of smuggling has always had a certain 
fascination for me. I became int.ei*ested at once, 
and forgot my fatigue and my longing for bed. 
I thought it seemed a whimsical thing that I should 
live over a reputed smuggler’s passage, and now 
find in an old friend a modern “ preventive man." 

“ That must be an interesting j^b," I said. 
“ Tell me as much as you can. I needn’t tell 
you I have sense enough to keep my mouth shut." 

“ I know you will. You see, the natives, especi¬ 
ally the wealthy ones, will have the stuff, and 
they simply don’t care what they pay. Naturally, 
the value of it has become enormous—incredible. 


THE DOPE TRADE 177 

These damned Arabs and Levantines are always 
slipping it in But there’s a bigger trade going 
on. They grow it regularly now in Greece, and 
the Greek Government won’t lift a finger to stop 
it. There’s too much backshish about. It will 
be a big thing for me if I succeed. At present 
I’m sorry to say I’m on the track of two renegade 
Englishmen.” 

“ Englishmen ? ” I repeated. " That’s bad.” 

“ It’s damnable,” he said. “ You can’t imagine 
how we depend on prestige out here. If I could 
get evidence against them, we should have to 
keep it quiet here and have them dealt with at 
home. At present I've only suspicions to go 
on ; but they’re in tow with a rascalfy native. 
The biggest blackguard in the trade. He was 
in the police and got to know all the ropes. Some 
years ago he made a big coup, collared two feluccas 
full of the stuff near the Western Frontier. There 
was thousands of pounds’ worth of the drug in 
them, and he had risked his life a dozen times 
to bring it off, to say nothing of the brains he 
showed. Of course, he was entitled to a reward, 
and what do you think they offered him ? ” 

“ I've no idea.” 

” Five pounds he groaned. 

” Think of it! ” he continued a moment later. 
“ Five pounds to a man like that ! He put the 
money back on the desk, smiled, saluted and 
disappeared. The fellow who had to offer him 
the money told me his smile as he saluted keeps 
him awake at night still—the memory of it, I 
mean. He’s had to take a long sick-leave on 
account of insomnia. Of course, the man went 
straight into the trade, and I fancy he really 
organises the whole business. I’ve all the evi- 


M 


178 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

dence I want against him, and when I get him, 
he’ll give away his English pals all right.” 

“ What’s his name ? ” I asked to fill another pause. 

“ Oh, names don’t count with a fellow like that. 
He’ll answer to anything—Osman, Ali, Jakoub— 
‘ anything that comes to ’and,’ as the old lady 
said of her goat.” 

“ Jakoub ? ” I asked, startled. 

" Yes. Why?” 

A blur of impressions and calculations mingled 
in my tired mind. It suddenly occurred to me 
that the description was like our Jakoub. But 
he had been on the Astarte all this time. No¬ 
thing fitted in. Still, some instinct made me 
disinclined to give any particulars about my 
enemy, if such I could still consider him. 

“ Jakoub is my dragoman’s name,'-’ I replied. 

“ It’s a common enough name,” said Brogden 
with a laugh. “ They’ve only got about a dozen 
names among them.” 

“ But what have these Englishmen got to do 
with it ? ” 

“ They run the damned ship. A wretched 
little Greek schooner they picked up here, interned 
during the Balkan war, and sold for a song. They 
profess to be making money out of the fruit trade, 
which of course is rot.” 

I was aware only of the effort to keep any reveal¬ 
ing emotion from my face. Suddenly and quite 
clearly I had seen who were the two “ renegade 
Englishmen.” I had only one idea—that they 
were in danger of betrayal by Jakoub. How he 
had managed to deceive them, or how far they 
might be compromised, I did not try to guess. 
My only thought was that Brogden was now an 
enemy, a skilful, questing enemy on the track 


THE DOPE TRADE 179 

of a frightful misapprehension. I felt my skin 
grow cold as I thought what a mere chance it 
was that I had not told him my story, enough 
of it anyhow to lead him straight to Jakoub— 
and Edmund’s disgrace. People would never 
understand that Edmund was innocent. Suddenly 
the question occurred to me—“ Would they under¬ 
stand that’ I was ? ” 

Brogden was talking all the time, and now I 
listened again. 

“ I was making things so hot for them that 
they left the Mediterranean in the beginning of 
this year. They’re experts at dodging signal 
stations, and I lost track, of them till they got 
to London. Ship’s papers, manifest, cargo and 
everything all right, but the police got warrants 
out for the Arab in the name of Osman Hamouda. 
Then they disappeared again. We hoped to pick 
them up at Jersey, where we found they had 
relations with some very shady customers. I 
don’t know what their game was, but there’s 
sporadic smuggling going on there still in the 
old commodities whenever a chance offers. How¬ 
ever, we missed them again. They got warned 
somehow and disappeared. I shouldn’t be sur¬ 
prised if they’re back in the Mediterranean. We’ll 
find them with a perfectly innocent cargo of bananas 
or something ! ” 

Brogden laughed, and then I heard him exclaim, 
“ Hallo ! What’s the matter ? You’re ill! ’’ 

A great darkness had come on me through 
which I seemed to hear his voice as a teasing sound 
at a distance. 

I saw it all now. Edmund had known all along! 

“No. I’m all right now; a bit fagged, and 
the heat.” 


i8o A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 


“ Let me help you to your room/’ 

“No, no thanks. I can walk all right/’ 

I stood up to show him that I could, and to 
my surprise I was really dizzy. I swayed and 
sat down awkwardly on the couch. But my 
mind was clearing. 

“ Stop there a bit,” he said authoritatively, 
and rang the bell. 

“ Here, Esmah,” he called to the Arab, “ get 
a whisky, get two, large ones, and some soda.” 

I swallowed the whisky, longing only to be 
left alone. 

“ That’s better,” I said, and this time I man¬ 
aged to rise quite steadily; " I’ll turn in, I think, 
ii you don’t mind. Many thanks. Good night.” 

“ Well, I’ll look you up to-morrow.” 

He came to the foot of the staircase with me, 
and I felt he was watching me as I went up. I 
turned at the landing and smiled, I think quite 
naturally. He waved a hand, and I was rid of 
him at last and alone in my room. 

I wanted to think everything out and under¬ 
stand as far as I could. But thought was blotted 
out by emotion. My mind seemed blackened 
by the sense of Edmund’s degradation. Less 
worthily, but I suppose not unnaturally, there 
simmered the sense of personal humiliation and 
affront. 

Edmund had associated with Welfare and Jakoub 
in making of me their tool and dupe. In my 
bitterness I accused them of laughing at my 
innocence. But I knew at once I wronged them 
in that. I knew enough of the good in both of 
them to realise the wretchedness for them of our 
association during those weeks on the Astarte. 
Then I began dimly to perceive the hold that 


THE DOPE TRADE 


181 


Jakoub had obtained over them. I tried to put 
away all these profitless ponderings and think 
out what was now to be done, how some shreds 
of honour were to be saved, or at least depravity 
concealed. I remembered the cargo of “ curios ” 
brought into my house, and realised it must be 
contraband, and the shop in Brighton only an 
agency for its sale. 

But my mind refused to think it out then. I 
went disconsolate to bed, and was mercifully 
surprised by sleep. 

I slept heavily until the Arab came with my 
tea and opened the lowered shutters that closed 
my windows. 

I awoke with my body refreshed and mind alert. 

As though I had thought it out in the night, 
I saw that I must at once get control of that 
abominable stuff. Whatever happened it should 
not be released to poison the souls and bodies 
of men. I would be a passenger no longer, but 
must act now. 

I hated and feared the timidity and indolence 
that I had made a sort of petted habit. 

As soon as I was dressed I went downstairs 
and sent for Van Ermengen. 

He came, smiling and urbane, and wished me 
good morning. 

“ Good morning. Those packing-cases of mine ? ” 

“ Yes ? ” 

“ I want them brought up to my bedroom.” 

There was a sudden hardening of his face, and 
I remembered Edmund saying, “ Van Ermengen 
knows all about the consignment.” I was certain 
now that he did know all, that he was “ in the 
trade.” It was evident too that he had assumed 
—how rightly !—that I knew nothing. 


182 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

“ But it is impossible/’ he said; “ they will 
be called for this afternoon.” 

“ Who says so ? ” 

“ Your dragoman told me.” He sucked in 
his lips with annoyance at being forced to this 
admission. 

“ My dragoman takes my orders.” 

“ He referred to your partners,” said Van 
Ermengen with a touch of insolence. 

“ I am waiting for my partners.” 

Now that I had started, it seemed much easier 
than I had expected to assert myself. I had 
feared Van Ermengen. Now I saw that he began 
to fear me. I saw too that he was utterly puzzled 
by my demeanour. 

” But your bedroom, sir ? It is impossible. 
It will take a couple of Arabs all morning.” 

“ I will pay them.” 

“ If you will come, I will show you where your 
cases are. They are quite safe.” 

“ I want them in my bedroom.” 

” But think of the weight! They are too heavy 
for the floor.” 

“ If that’s so, I will ask the English Consulate 
to take charge of them. Will you be good enough 
to ring them up ? ” 

He darted at me the malevolent glance of a beaten 
man, and gave some orders in Arabic to a porter. 

“ I will have my breakfast in my room, if you 
please, so that I may count the packages.” 

He bowed, and we parted. 

In spite of the misery that still afflicted my 
soul, I had a new feeling of self-esteem as I regained 
my room. I had come well out of this encounter, 
and felt I could depend on myself in the struggle 
that must lie before me. 


THE DOPE TRADE 183 

Before I had finished my breakfast Jakoub 
was shown in, polite as ever. 

“You have slept well, effendi ? You seem 
no longer fatigued ? ” 

“ I’m quite well, thank you.” 

“ The praise to Allah. You would have the 
packing-cases up here, effendi ? ” 

I nodded. 

“ But it is against the orders of the Captain 
and the other effendi. Nasr Hussein calls for 
them to-day. I must obey my orders, effendi.” 

“You must obey my orders.” 

“It is not in my agreement. It is impossible, 
this.” 

He was evidently prepared to defy my authority. 

I stood up and looked at him. 

“ Jakoub, if those cases are not all here in one 
hour, I shall send for the police to take charge 
of them.” 

I suppose he saw in my eyes that I knew all 
that was involved in this decision, to Edmund 
and myself as well as him, and realised that I 
was determined to take the consequences. 

He smiled as he had smiled at the official who 
offered him the five pounds. 

“ Very well, effendi,” he said, and departed 
with a salaam. 

There was deadly fear of him in my heart as 
the Arabs piled the cases on the floor. 

Shortly after they had deposited the last one 
a message came that Brogden Bey was waiting 
for me below. I had forgotten his promised call. 
It was another embarrassment. 

I locked my door and went down to meet him. 


CHAPTER X 


I HANDLE A REVOLVER 

I T was somehow a relief to me to find Brogden 
in a suit of civilian linen. His exotic uniform, 
and the tarboosh which etiquette compelled 
him to keep on his head throughout the evening, 
had increased his effect of a figure in a bad dream. 
Now I could realise him as my old friend—and 
keep him at arm’s length. 

I answered his anxious enquiries by assuring him 
I was well. But I intended, however, to remain 
on guard over the abomination hidden in my room, 
and I made use of my supposed indisposition as an 
excuse for not leaving the hotel. 

Pie, of course, wanted me to lunch or dine at his 
club, to meet his friends of the English Colony. 

I knew that Edmund and Welfare might arrive 
at any moment, and the sweat broke out on me as 
I thought of their walking in and finding me with 
this man. And it was impossible to get rid of him ! 

Through all the gloom of my misery I saw, like 
a golden thread, the humour of our being there 
together, of my having in my hands the treasure 
for which he would have ransacked Egypt. Of all 
men he was one I would most gladly have helped ; 
up to last night. But now I must use all my wits 
to foil him in his endeavour. I said the word to 
myself, to " betray ” him ! Yet I too was on the 

184 



I HANDLE A REVOLVER 


185 

side of righteousness. I too would stop the issue 
of this poison. But the achievement of his ambition 
would destroy my brother, and drag my own name 
in the mire of disgrace. To deal uprightly was 
beyond my power now, and there were things I 
must learn from him. I 

We agreed that my indisposition must have been 
a “ touch of the sun,” a diagnosis which in Egypt 
fulfils the same function that the familiar “ chill ” 
does at home, and 1 decided that if I could not shake 
Brogden off otherwise, I would have a relapse. 

He wanted to talk about people and things at 
home, and anxiety began to make me feel genuinely 
unwell. 

“Tell me,” I said suddenly, “ do you know these 
two Englishmen you are after ? ” 

He looked round uneasily, evidently disinclined 
to renew his confidences of the night before. 

“ No,” he said, “ I’ve never seen them myself. 
Not yet.” 

“ Do you know their names ? ” 

“ Oh, I expect they’ve a different name in every 
port ! They’re known to us as Montgomery and 
Ringrose. Don’t for God’s sake talk about them.” 

“ I won’t utter a word to a soul. But I’m deeply 
interested.” 

“It is a queer business. Montgomery is said to 
have the manners of a gentleman. The other one 
is a regular old shell-back, I believe. Professes to 
be some kind of sea-captain. They’re both slim, 
though ! By Jove, they’ll want handling.” 

“ What’s this drug worth ? How much a 
pound ? ” 

“ Well, one can’t say exactly. The actual buj^er 
would give ten pounds, perhaps, for a pound of it, 
if he could get it. But of course the fellows who 


186 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

bring it in don’t get all that. It has to go through 
the Lord knows how many hands. If they can 
dispose of it well, and in fairly big lots, they might 
clear a fiver on every pound of it. They wouldn’t 
take the risk for much less.” 

Ten thousand pounds, I thought with horror, 
was represented by the load in my bedroom ! 

“ But don’t let’s talk about the business,” Brogden 
continued, “ it’s never safe. You never know. 
I’m going to have a cock-tail—the one exception to 
the rule of ‘ no drinks before sun-down ! ’ Do you 
mind coming in the American bar ? ” 

I went with him and sat on a high stool by the 
end of a marble counter on which were vast blocks 
of ice with soda-water bottles sticking out of them 
like spines. 

Brogden went and busied himself in superintend¬ 
ing the concoction of some mysterious drink which 
he averred was the only one suitable and wholesome 
for the time and place. 

Behind the bar and opposite where I sat was a 
door which I knew opened into Van Ermengen’s 
private office. It was slightly open, and through 
the crack I heard Jakoub’s voice and Van Ermen¬ 
gen’s, speaking in Arabic. 

If they had spoken in English I could not have 
heard all they said. As it was I could distinguish 
only a few isolated words of which I knew the mean¬ 
ing. I had no qualm of conscience in listening, and 
only envied Brogden’s knowledge of the language. 

It sounded as though Jakoub were urging some¬ 
thing and the other were demurring. 

I heard the words “ el moftah ” (the key) repeated 
several times, and then I recognised “ a part of it,” 
“ our share,” and “ to-night.” 

I trembled lest Jakoub should come out and be 


I HANDLE A REVOLVER 


187 

recognised by Brogden, but instead there was an 
exclamation of annoyance or alarm, as someone 
hastily shut the door. 

“ Here you are,” cried Brogden, bringing a 
wine-glass filled with an amber liquor with an olive 
at the bottom of it. “ That will do you more good 
than all the medicine in the chemists’ shops ! Good 
health ! ” 

“ Good health,” I answered, tasting the liquor, 
which was certainly very agreeable. 

” I hate leaving you alone, old man. But I can’t 
cut lunch at the club—or dinner to-day, and to¬ 
morrow I have to go to Cairo for a day. When does 
your boat sail ? ” 

“I’ve not decided yet. I may rest here a da}' 
or two in any case.” 

“ Then we shall meet again, and I’ll be able to 
trot you round a bit when I get back.” 

“ Yes, I hope so. But remember if we miss each 
other we must not * lose touch ’ again. We will 
write, and I’ll hope to come out next winter. And 
you must spend part of your next leave with me.” 

His going to Cairo was an unspeakable relief; 
but I longed for an opportunity to make him some 
amends. So we parted very cordially. 

I got wearily back to my room and counted over 
again the cases of hashish ! They were undis¬ 
turbed, but I felt more nervous of my trust than if 
they had been solid gold or dynamite. 

I ordered my meals to be sent up to my room, sent 
for some papers and books which I knew I should 
be unable to read, and sat down once more trying 
to plan out my immediate future. 

One thing only was certain. I must remain 
where I was until the Astarte came into harbour. 
Then I must face Edmund. I felt how much easier 


i88 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 


it would be to be the guilty one. What was I to 
say to him ? How were we to adjust our new 
relationship ? I was determined to insist on his 
coming out of this life in which he had lost his 
honour and his caste. I did not shrink from the 
notion of impoverishing myself if necessary. But 
even if I succeeded in restoring Edmund to his 
caste, how could he take his place in it ? 

I knew that, as a matter of practical experience, 
there really is no absolution without penance. 
Knowing Edmund as I did, I knew that he would 
impose the penance on himself, and refuse the 
absolution. How was I to persuade him that all 
the best of his life, which lay before him, must be 
lived vigorously and honourably if only to make 
reparation ? 

I feared the weakness and petulance in his char¬ 
acter, which I knew might drive him to shirk the 
issue in a cowardly suicide. I determined that I 
would hold him by the immediate plain duty of 
getting rid of this present cargo of potential infamy. 
I began to see in the hated packing-cases the means 
of Edmund's deliverance from himself. 

About their destination I was clear and deter¬ 
mined, but as to how to get them there, how even 
to move them from this room without exposure and 
disgrace, I had no idea whatever. 

Of Captain Welfare I thought little. In other 
circumstances he would no doubt have prosperously 
added sand to sugar like my churchwarden at home, 
or have made an “ honest living ” out of poverty 
as a pawnbroker. He belonged to the class whose 
ideal is “ respectability." It would be wrong to 
expect of such a higher ethical standard than their 
own. 

No doubt he had expected to retire on his share 


I HANDLE A REVOLVER i» 9 

of the profits of this infamy. Once I had seen the 
stuff destroyed I would give him his pieces of silver. 
He could just “ put up the shutters ” for the last 
time and appear no more in his shirt sleeves. 

The long day wore itself away amid my fretting; 
but Edmund did not come. Once more I watched 
the sun set across the sea and, with the darkness, 
my fear of Jakoub revived. 

I knew now that he was in league with Van 
Ermengen, that they both knew I was an enemy to 
their schemes. In my loneliness and sense of 
weakness I wished that even Brogden were back. 
I was in the enemy’s camp and had no means of 
finding even one man whom I could trust. I 
wondered about the fragments of their conversa¬ 
tion I had overheard. What key was it they 
spoke of ? 

“ A part of it—our share—to-night ! ” 

I had not thought much of the words when I 
heard them. I was not quite certain if I had their 
meaning right, caught as they were in isolated frag¬ 
ments of a conversation I could not understand. 
Besides, my mind had been concentrated on the 
fear of Jakoub’s appearing and being recognised. 
But now, at the end of my day of solitary pondering, 
they came back into my mind, and it seemed their 
meaning was obvious. 

The key must be the key of my own door. Jakoub 
must intend to steal the poison from my room, or 
at least as much of it as he regarded as his share— 
his and Van Ermengen’s. 

From what I knew of its value I realised that a 
few cases of it would recompense him. 

And the attempt was to be made to-night. 

My dread of the man almost overcame me. I 
longed to leave the place, to escape, and let him do 


igo A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

as he would. I do not think it was fear of any 
violence he might attempt against myself. 

I have not tried to tell what the loss of my faith 
in Edmund meant to me. But I do know that I 
would have surrendered my life then without regret. 
Yet I shrank from the idea of conflict with this man. 
I mistrusted myself and my own will. It was 
exactly the same feeling I had had before my first 
fight at school. I was then not frightened of being 
hurt. But I was sick with the terror of finding 
myself a coward and showing it. 

However, I determined I would not desert my trust. 

I got out Edmund’s revolver, laid it on the table, 
and sat down by it to wait. 

The night was hot and it was late before I heard 
the voices and the closing doors of other occupants 
of the hotel retiring. Had there been an English¬ 
man among them I believe I should have appealed 
to him to share my vigil. 

But they were all foreigners. I had heard nothing 
spoken but Italian and a language I took to be 
Greek. I could speak neither. To explain would 
be impossible. 

A clock somewhere struck one, and suddenly 
the strain became intolerable. I reflected that 
they would not come at all while my light was on, 
and like a kind of vertigo came the desire to get the 
encounter over. It was the same longing that one 
has to throw one’s self down from a height. But 
could I endure the waiting in the dark ? 

I decided that I must. 

There was a switch attached to a long cord over 
my bed. I placed it under my pillow. I turned 
the key and took it purposely from the key-hole, 
took the pistol in my hand, and putting out the 
light lay down on the bed. 


I HANDLE A REVOLVER 


191 

I listened to my heart like a muffled drum within 
me, “ beating its funeral march to the grave.” 

And then the one thing I had not contemplated 
happened. I slept. 

I awoke dumb with horror and the certainty 
that someone was in the room with me ; but I had 
heard nothing, and there was no sound but the 
“ funeral march ” within me, beating time. 

I do not know how long I listened, but at last 
came the unmistakable gentle sound of fingers 
sweeping along the wall. It is a sound that would 
wake no sleeper. But I can imagine no sound more 
terrifying to one listening in the dark. 

In a spasm of terror I pressed the switch and sat 
up, covering Jakoub with the revolver. He stood 
by the wall near the end of my bed. One hand was 
in the bosom of his galabieh. He was not smiling, 
but his lips were drawn back and his teeth bared in 
a kind of snarl, the reaction of a man startled and 
disconcerted by sudden fright. Fear was like a 
third party between us. 

“ Put your weapon on the table or I'll fire.” 

I had not meant to speak, and my own words 
startled me. 

Jakoub hesitated. The re\olver was not cocked 
and I began to pull the trigger. 

Jakoub could see the hammer rise. He laid a 
knife on the table. 

“ It was but to cut the strings, effendi,” he said 
with a return of his. smile. I slowly relaxed my 
pressure on the trigger, the hammer sank again, 
and I cocked the thing with my thumb as Edmund 
had shown me how to do. Jakoub watched me. 

“You know what will happen if I pull the trigger 
again ? 

“ I have used a revolver,” he sneered. 


192 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

“ Sit down on that chair at the end of the table.” 

He obeyed, and I took a chair at the near end. 
I propped the pistol on a pile of books, so that it 
was impossible to miss him if he moved. 

“ Why do you threaten me, effendi ? I mean 
you no harm.” 

“ Why have you stolen into my room at night ? ” 

“ I have but come for my property. You have 
taken it from me unjustly. I knew you would not 
give it to me. I wished for peace to be between us. 
I am a very good, very peaceful Arab.” 

In spite of myself I smiled at his remark, and at 
my smiling I saw to my surprise a new respect and 
fear of me awaken in Jakoub's eyes. 

It was as though he knew our Irish proverb, 
“ Beware of the front of a bull, the heels of a horse, 
the teeth of a dog, and the smile of an Englishman .” 

An immense relief swept over me as I realised that 
fear had changed places across that table. I no 
longer dreaded my own cowardice. 

“ Let me go now, effendi, and I will await my 
share till the Captain come. It is now morning, 
he will be here to-day.” 

“ If you move, I will fire.” 

I was aware of an extraordinary feeling within 
me. It was an intense desire to pull that trigger 
and kill him. It was blood-lust. It had never 
visited me before, and I felt it now as an intolerable 
temptation. 

Jakoub saw it in my face. I saw it reflected by 
the terror in his eyes. 

“ Do not, effendi,” he moaned, and I pitied him. 
The desire for his life faded out. 

“In an hour it will be day,” he argued. “ The 
people will awake. If I am found here there will 
be plenty questions. It is not wise, effendi! ” 


I HANDLE A REVOLVER 193 

I reached out with my left hand and took his 
knife from the table. 

“ To cut strings only/’ he repeated. 

It was true that if he were found there, questions 
might be asked, and talk might arise that would 
ruin everything. I was at a loss how to end the 
situation. 

“ Jakoub," I said, “ I know now what is in those 
cases/' 

“ Of course the effendi knows. Are they not his ? " 

“ No they are not mine. I did not know what 
was in them until I came here the other night/' 

Jakoub’s face told me what I wanted to know. 
He understood it was a time for truth between us, 
and I saw that he was surprised. He had evidently 
believed that T was all along privy to the conspiracy. 
I suppose his manifest contempt for me was due to 
some idea that I was willing to accept less than my 
proper share of the profits. 

“ I did not know what was in those cases," I 
repeated. “ I did not understand that this was a 
scheme to poison your own people and make money 
out of their misery. I knew nothing about your 
accursed trade. Now, I tell you, I know ; and as 
long as I live not one ounce of that stuff shall be 
sold. I will pay you for your services to me, but 
vou shall not get one piastre of profit from your 
drug." 

The man’s avarice almost overcame his self- 
control. He started forward in his chair. 

I raised the revolver an inch or two, and he sank 
back. 

" It is my property, my share‘of it. Even the 
poor Arab cannot be robbed always. I have paid 
for what I have there. I will see the Captain. 
Who are you to take from me my goods ? " 

N 


194 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

“ I know the man who is hunting you, Jakoub. 
He is very close on your heels. If I speak to him 
to-day, you will be in prison to-night." 

" If I am, I speak ! What then for you and the 
others ? We’re all in one ship." 

“ I am not. I knew nothing of the business, and 
I can prove it to my friend who is looking for you— 
only for you , mind. The others can take care of 
themselves. They have deceived me." 

I watched him closely to see if he believed my last 
statement. I gathered from his look of discourage¬ 
ment that he did. I suppose from his point of view, 
there was nothing surprising in it. 

“ If you wish to see Captain Welfare again, you 
may see him here, in my presence, when he comes. 
I will let you live till then. I will not answer for 
Montgomery Effendi." He showed no surprise at 
my mention of this name, and I hoped that perhaps 
he knew no other. 

“ Have you complaint of me for him ? Have I 
not served you ? " 

“You served me well on the journey. I shall 
not forget to say so. But he will be angry when he 
learns what I know. You will not understand, 
perhaps, but he will not be just. This is his pistol. 
If he were here holding it now, you would be dead, 
Jakoub." 

“ I do not fear him or any man." 

“ All right. You can go now I shall not lock 
my door. But I think you will not try again to 
take your property. See, there is the daylight." 

I rose and opened the shutters. I had to risk 
the movement because my forearm ached so with 
holding the revolver that I knew I could bear it 
no longer. 

The amber light of morning filled the large bare 


I HANDLE A REVOLVER 195 

room, revealing the feebleness of the electric lights 
which before had seemed so brilliant. They glowed 
now as points of light without power to illuminate 
anything. 

Jakoub looked yellow-skinned and old. I saw 
points of grey in his black hair that I had not noticed 
before. I felt as if I looked a hundred years old, 
and knew that whether he went or not I must sleep. 

He was standing with his hands folded before 
him looking at the ugly pile of packing-cases. 

“ Effendi," he said, “ it is many thousands of 
pounds. We have worked hard and suffered much. 
We have paid much money to bring it here/' 

“ Go away," I answered petulantly. I was 
rocking on my feet with the desire to sleep. The 
man simply bored me now, like a guest that will 
not depart. 

“ It is no good," I added. “ You cannot have 
it. You cannot have any of it." 

“ All my life I have dreamed of such a chance, 
and now you rob me. Why ? " 

“ If you don’t get out of this I’ll—I'll ring the 
bell." 

I was conscious of bathos in this threat, but some¬ 
how the ordinariness of daylight made it impossible 
to threaten him with the revolver. I was a clergy¬ 
man again, longing to get into my pyjamas. 

Jakoub went sorrowfully out of the room. 

I undressed and lay down, leaving the door ajar. 

I knew there was something more potent than 
gunpowder protecting me and my charge, and I 
slept secure under the aegis of my own will. 

I had overcome Jakoub and I was proud of it. 


CHAPTER XI 


CAPTAIN WELFARE EXPLAINS 

I HAD finished a late breakfast and sat trying 
to forget my trouble and take an intelligent 
interest in The Egyptian Gazette and an eloquent 
indictment in its columns of the “Ministry of Wakfs.” 

I was still at a loss as to the nature and functions 
of this institution when Edmund came in, very 
debonair in his white linen suit. 

“ By Jove \” he cried. “I’m glad to see you 
here safe. We were terribly worried about you 
when we saw the sand blowing—what is it ? What’s 
the matter ? ’’ 

I had tried to keep all signals out of my face and 
aspect, but I could not command myself. I knew 
I looked a crushed and guilty man. 

I saw the youthful joyousness fade out of 
Edmund’s eyes as he turned and saw the pile of 
boxes on the floor, and more than ever then I knew 
how dear to me he was ; how much dearer than I 
suppose most sons are to their fathers. 

He had wronged me deeply. How would it be 
possible for him to forgive me ? We pray to be 
forgiven as we forgive them that trespass against 
us. We dare not profess to forgive those against 
whom we have trespassed. 

He faced me again, but now with a grave, stern, 
face. 


196 



CAPTAIN WELFARE EXPLAINS- 197 

' Why have you brought all that up here ? ” 

“ I could not trust it anywhere else.” 

“ I see. You know what it is ? ” 

I nodded. 

“ You understand, of course, that I knew all 
along ? ” 

“ Yes, now. From what I have learned I am 
bound to suppose that. I want you to tell me all 
about it, to explain-” 

“ Explain ? There’s nothing to explain. I did 
want to keep you out of it. I tried, faintly. I 
loathed the idea of your being humbugged—oh ! 
yes, that’s what it comes to. But I was too feeble 
to prevent it. But I won’t insult you further with 
my regrets. The other things are bad enough, but 
I wish to God you could know how I mind about 
you. Good-bye ! ” 

He went to the door, and it was no mere melo¬ 
dramatic movement. I knew well that if he went 
it would be the end between us. 

Very quietly I said, “ Wait a moment. You 
have no right to leave me in the lurch now. You 
have got me into this hole. Even at the cost of a 
few days’ unpleasantness for yourself, you must get 
me out of it. Then you can go on with your own 
plans for yourself.” 

It stopped him like an expanding bullet. 

“ I beg your pardon. If there is anything I can 
do ‘ at the cost of a few days’ unpleasantness' I 
shall certainly not grudge them.” 

“ I’m glad to hear it,” I said. “ There’s a devil 
of a lot to be done. You’d better sit while we 
discuss it.” 

" Well ? ” he asked as he took the chair in which 
Jakoub had last faced me. 

I felt I had a much harder, much more important 



198 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

contest before me now, one in which I should have 
no aid from revolvers or other mechanical weapons. 

“ Under the circumstances/’ I said, “ I cannot 
consent to your calmly clearing out and leaving me 
with all this very incriminating stuff on my 
hands.” 

“ You’ll have no difficulty in getting rid of it. 
That was all arranged. If you had left it to Jakoub 
and Van Ermengen-” 

“ I know that. It would have been distributed 
by sneaks in spite of all we English are doing to 
prevent it.” 

" We English are fools to try to prevent it. If 
you knew the people that take it ! ” 

This remark depressed me almost more than 
anything that had yet occurred. It gave me the 
measure of Edmund’s deterioration. I was again 
reminded of the bishop’s remark about becoming 
declasse. But I had not thought the process could 
have led to this. 

" We may be fools, as you say,” I replied, “ but 
it is our habit to be decent fools. That is cricket. 
You and I cannot start playing pitch-and-toss like 
street boys and obstructing the field.” 

Edmund flushed a deeper red. “ Why bracket 
yourself and me ? ” he asked. 

" Because we are brothers. We are both 
Davorens.” 

“I'm not. I gave it up ages ago. I’ve kept 
the name out of it all right. Welfare won’t give it 
away, and he learned my name before we—before 
we both-” 

" I know. I’m very glad you have kept our 
name out. But that’s not the point at present. I 
called you back to know how we are to get rid of 
this stuff, to destroy it ? I quite understand there 




CAPTAIN WELFARE EXPLAINS 199 

would be all sorts of unpleasantness if I called in the 
police. What are we to do ? ” 

“ I don’t know. Unless you burn the hotel 
down.” 

“ I can’t afford that.” 

“ There are so many people interested. They 
would all be out to stop you.” 

“You must find a way. You and Welfare. It’s 
the only way you can get clean again.” 

“ I can’t get clean again, except in one way. I’m 
afraid Welfare won’t see it. He’s used to being 
soiled. And, apart from the profit he was going to 
get, nearly the whole of his savings are there. There 
are plenty of pious Englishmen whose money is 
just as foul.” 

“ I don't doubt it, but I can’t help your savings.” 

“ Mine ? There’s no money of mine in it! I 
don’t own an ounce of the muck. Practically all 
that was left of my money went into the Astarte. 
But of course that makes no difference. It makes 
me feel all the more a worm. I was in at it, and 
it’s they who lose.” 

I suppose it was in a sense not a very essential 
point, and yet I rejoiced exceedingly to know that 
Edmund was not financially interested in this 
wretched enterprise; not directly, that is, for of 
course he was privy to it, and it was obviously part 
of the business of the Astarte. I recollected with a 
twinge that I owned more of the Astarte than 
Edmund did. But then I was not privy to the 
business. 

“ Who are the other people concerned ? ” 

“ There’s Jakoub, of course, and Van Ermengen, 
and the other scoundrelly native who was coming 
for the stuff to-day.” 

“ Well, there’s no use any of these people trying 


200 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

to prevent our having the stuff removed and 
destroyed quietly. As a matter of fact, the situa¬ 
tion is that I offer to permit its destruction. The 
alternative is handing it—and them—over to the 
police. You have got to act for me in the matter. 
You must see them and explain. Then you must 
help me to get it destroyed. And I must see it 
destroyed myself/’ 

“ That can’t be done in Egypt.” 

“ Then it must be got out of Egypt.” 

“ If it wasn’t for old Welfare, I’d rather you did 
tell the police. But it would be terribly hard on 
him. It was a fearful temptation, and I know he 
tried to keep out of it. Better men than he is might 
have given in.” 

“ I quite agree. It’s just because we’ve got to 
consider Welfare that I propose this plan. You and 
he must carry it out.” 

“ Yes ; I see that. I don’t know if it’s possible, 
but, by God, I’m glad to have the chance of trying ! ” 

“ Is Welfare here ? ” 

“ He’s in Alexandria, yes.” 

“ Well, you must see him. Tell him what has 
happened and explain what he has got to do. And, 
look here, tell him when it’s done I won’t see him 
stuck. I suppose there will be some honest money 
over when all your joint business is wound up and 
the Astarte sold ? Tell him that will all be his and 
he can rely on me to help him in any straight business 
he may take on. I know he’s an honest man by 
nature.” 

“ It’s generous of you to say that.” 

"No. It’s simply my belief. Try and explain to 
him. Could you bring him here this afternoon ? ” 

“ I could, of course.” 

" Very well. Then we’ll thrash the whole thing out.” 


CAPTAIN WELFARE EXPLAINS 


201 


" Do you mind telling me how you got to know 
about the infernal business ? " 

“ Not a bit. I met the man who is hunting you 
all down. He is an old Oxford friend of mine." 

“ My God ! What an extraordinary thing ! " 

“ It is. An almost incredible circumstance. But 
it’s the way things happen." 

" And you told him nothing ? " 

" He began telling me things, and I saw it all 
before I let anything out. Even now I think I could 
give him all this, and Jakoub, and keep you and 
Welfare out, but I prefer the other way." 

“ You couldn’t muzzle Jakoub once he knew his 
own game was up. We are compromised utterly. 
They would bring you in as a witness. They might 
even arrest you ! No, for God's sake, let’s do it 
our own way." 

A flash almost of fun came into his eyes. 

“ Do you know," he asked, “ that we’ll have to 

steal it from Jakoub and the others ? " 

“ I don’t care a hang about that." 

There was healing in our laugh, and I was filled 

with a great thankfulness as Edmund went away. 

I knew that for the time being he was saved from 

himself. He had at last a clear, clean duty, and an 

enormously difficult task before him. I could not 

tell how he would accomplish, it ; but in the trying 

there would be reparation. After all he had not 

sunk so deep as I feared. He had tolerated 

depravity in order to live the life he desired, but 

he had not vet actuallv traded in it. 

%/ */ 

I was much more hopeful as I dozed through the 
stifling heat of the afternoon, waiting for Captain 
Welfare. They came at last about five o’clock. 
Captain Welfare hesitated, or professed to hesitate, 
about taking my hand. 


202 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 


“ It’s good of you to offer it, sir/' he said. “ I 
hope you’ll believe as I’d never have allowed you 
to leave us when you did if I’d known such a storm 
as that were blowing up. It’s the worst I’ve seen, 
and I’ve seen plenty. When we got sand coming 
on deck five mile from the land, I knew what it 
were like ashore. I thought you were lost, sir. I 
did, indeed. I didn’t think as you would have 
stood it; Your brother will tell you how I carried 
on about it.” 

He paused, appealing with a look to Edmund, 
who grunted as he generally did when Welfare 
became eloquent. 

” That’s all right. We had a rough time, but 
now that it’s over I’m glad to have had the experi¬ 
ence.” 

“ I wouldn’t have had you come to harm, not for 
a million.” 

It was evident that Captain Welfare was perfectly 
sincere in his solicitude. I had no reason to doubt 
it, for in spite of the deception he had put on me, I 
believed him to have a regard and respect for me 
that was none the less real because of his very 
English pleasure in knowing one whom he persisted 
in regarding as a " swell,” 

Unfortunately he had the failing, so common in 
his class, of believing it to be necessary to put all 
the fine shades of his feelings into words. He 
would leave nothing to the imagination if he could 
help it. I feared he would drive Edmund quite mad. 

“ We had better have some tea,” I said, and 
rang the bell. 

” If you’ll excuse me, sir, I think I could say 
what I have to say better if I had a glass of brandy.” 

“ Then for God’s sake don’t give him any,” said 
Edmund. 


CAPTAIN WELFARE EXPLAINS 203 

“ Bring some tea and a bottle of brandy and 
some sodas," I said to the Arab. I was determined 
to be just to Welfare. 

" Now, Captain Welfare, I have asked you to 
come here simply to discuss how we are to get rid 
of all this poisonous cargo. I take it that my 
brother has explained my views on the matter, and 
what I have decided must be done." 

“ I don’t know how to tell you what I feel about 
it, sir. I’m a broken-down man. I’ve run straight, 
or pretty nearly straight, till I let myself go into 
this here. If you’ll believe me, sir, it’s not just 
the money, though I reckoned there would be 
pretty near enough for me to retire on. But I was 
never easy about that. I wouldn’t have been if 
I’d had it in the bank at home. I’d have known 
the Lord’s blessing wasn’t on it." 

Edmund got up and went to the window. He 
remained there, looking out across the sea. But 
there was not a tinge of hypocrisy in Captain Wel¬ 
fare. His God was horribly unjust in most things, 
so unjust that, as I already knew, he thought it 
necessary to fear him in the literal sense of the 
word. But he would adjust his rewards and 
punishments with a nice sense of commercial pro¬ 
bity. 

“ No," he continued; “ what gets me is the 

way I’ve treated you, sir, after all you’d done for 
us. I can do no less than take it all on myself. 
Your brother was against it from the start. I 
only wish I hadn’t overbore him. But . I never 
planned it out beforehand. It came on bit by bit. 
I honestly thought, sir, as we’d go to Guernsey and 
back as arranged. Then when we got warned off 
there was nothing for it but to carry on. You’ll 
understand now it wasn't only Jakoub was in 


204 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

danger. Well, there’s times a man cant tell the 
truth, and we couldn’t then. I think you’ll see 
that yourself ? ” 

“ Quite,” I said. 

“ Well, we deceived vou then. It wasn’t the 
first time, I admit I suppose we’d been deceiving 
you all the time. I was nervous at first, but if 
you’ll excuse me, sir, it seemed to come natural to 
you to be took in.” 

“Yes, I’m afraid it did. I assure you I blame 
myself very much.” 

“ Don’t do that, sir. For God’s sake, don’t do 
that ! All the blame there is i c wanted. Don’t 
you waste it where it ain’t wanted. Well, we had 
this job on, though we didn’t mean to do it so soon. 
But it come over me that if we could work you in, 
it would make all plain-sailing. There didn’t seem 
any harm in it. I didn’t see what harm could come 
to you. But what I can’t forgive myself is them 
books. Them books I showed you was false.” 

This seemed to me a curiously minor point to 
rankle so in his queer crooked conscience. 

“ I do wish now I hadn’t done that,” he added. 

“ It seems unnecessary to me,” I said. “ It’s 
almost the only inartistic thing in the whole process.” 

It was an unkind remark, but it only brought 
a puzzled look into his pathetic green eyes. It 
made Edmund writhe, however, but then Edmund 
deserved it. 

“ Between you and I, sir, I thought I was giving 
you a fair chance to find us out. I thought you 
must see through them books. You would have 
if you’d have looked through them. But you never 
did.” 

“ Captain Welfare, I might just as well give you a 
Greek testament to read. I told you so.” 


CAPTAIN WELFARE EXPLAINS 205 

“ Well, I don’t know ! ” 

<f I know you don’t/’ I snapped, for this meaning¬ 
less exclamation always irritated me. 

Captain Welfare looked so pained that I was 
sorry I had snapped. There was a real innocence 
about the man that made it almost impossible to 
keep him focussed in the mind as the old schemer 
he undoubtedly was. I was able to believe that in 
showing me his abominable faked accounts, he had 
actually been offering me a sporting opportunity 
of finding him out! 

“ Well, sir. I’ve told you the story now. I’ve 
acted bad and mean. I’ve not had the chance to 
know many real gentlemen in my life until I come 
to know your brother, and afterwards yourself. 
When I was a younger man, and come to under¬ 
stand what a gentleman was, and that I wasn’t one, 
and never could be, it was a distress to me. I 
always wanted to be with gentlemen, to work with 
them and for them. Well, I got my chance, and 
this is what I’ve made of it. I’ve brought your 
brother into all this here. I’ve brought him down, 
and I’ve treated you—well, the way I’ve told 
you. I know now I’m not fit to have dealings with 
gentlemen. I don’t mind admitting, sir, it’s a 
disappointment.” 

There was a depth of sincerity in his crude con¬ 
fession that I think touched even Edmund. He 
continued to stare moodily out to sea. But it was 
evident he had been listening, and he made no 
gesture or sound of impatience. 

” Captain Welfare,” I said, " I told my brother 
this morning I believed you were an honest man.” 

“ Sir, I thank you for it, though if you’ll pardon 
my saying so, I think you’d believe any mortal 
thing, as long as it wasn’t in the line of ordinary 


206 a MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 


religion. Well, you know now Fm not an honest 
man, leastways I haven't been, but since you have 
said that, sir, by God, I am ! and will be, if I end 
my days in the fo’c’sle.” 

“ Have you thought how we can get rid of all 
this ? ” I asked. 

Captain Welfare’s theories were rather embarrass¬ 
ing. 

“ I haven’t, sir. Not yet.” 

“It’s got to be done.” 

“ Van Ermengen and Jakoub won’t let it go 
without a struggle.” 

“ There are the police if they try to prevent it,” 
I said grimly. 

“ They can easy square the police, sir. 
Backshish ! ” 

” They cannot square my friend,” I replied sternly. 

“ No; they couldn’t square him,” he agreed. 
“ But we’re not too well fixed for going to him 
either.” 

“ I would much rather do it without him.” 

“ Even if we got it away from here I don’t know 
where we'd put it. If we had it on board, I could 
manage. But the Astarte will be watched every 
minute she's in harbour. They searched us for 
Jakoub, sir, and for this little lot. Your friend 
will have heard of it by now.” 

Captain Welfare smiled, a regrettably unrepentant 
smile. But many a man who has changed sides 
has a temporary hankering for the old colours. 

"You say you could manage if you had it on the 
Astarte ? ” Edmund asked suddenly. 

“ Yes, if she were clear of the harbour.” 

“ Well, I see how it can be done.” 

We both waited for his plan. He turned and 
came back to the table. 


CAPTAIN WELFARE EXPLAINS 207 

“ This street is perfectly quiet from three o’clock 
in the morning until after sunrise. If there are 
any police about, a little backshish will keep them 
away. There’s deep water right up to the sea-wall. 
I’ve often seen feluccas tie up there. All we’ve to 
do is to bring up a big fishing felucca, lower the 
beastly stuff out of this window, load the felucca 
and send her out of the way till the Astarte picks 
her up at sea.” 

It was a daring scheme, and its risks were abomin¬ 
able. 

Captain Welfare pointed them out. 

“ You’ve got to take the risks because there’s 
no other way,” Edmund said. “ I’ve been thinking 
while you’ve been talking. When you mentioned 
the Astarte , I saw the whole thing in a flash. We 
cheat Van Ermengen & Co. instead of buying them 
off, we hoodwink the police and get away, and we 
can sink the stuff in as many fathoms as w£ like.” 

“ For that matter we could drop it overboard 
from the felucca without bothering about the 
Astarte at all.” 

“No,” Edmund argued, “ some of the crew would 
talk. Jakoub will know what we’ve done within 
forty-eight hours of their coming back. He would 
get it up again if he had any clue to its position.” 

“ Besides,” I said, “ I stipulated that I was to 
see it destroyed.” 

“ So you did, sir,” Captain Welfare admitted, 
" and that will be done as per agreement. So we’ll 
have to get it on the Astarte 

“ Are you going to bring it all the way home, 
then ? ” I asked. 

“ That is impossible, of course,” Edmund put in 
impatiently, “ we’ll have to get rid of the Astarte 
at Marseilles, and then disappear ourselves.” 


208 a MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

" Get rid of the Astarte ? ” I repeated. “ Is that 
necessary ? ” 

“ I’m afraid it is, sir,” said Captain Welfare. 
“ You see they won’t search us on the way because 
they will think we are going to pick up a fresh 
cargo. But we dare not leave the port in her 
again. This friend of yours knows too much, and 
he might get Jakoub while we are away.” 

“ I see,” I said, regretfully, “ but I don’t see how 
you will keep your promise about letting me see 
this stuff destroyed—not that it really matters. 
I’m quite willing to trust you.” 

“ I’ll not ask you to do that again, sir,” said 
Welfare very solemnly, “ you are bound for Mar¬ 
seilles too. We shall have a day or two’s start of 
you, but you will get there first. I promise you 
faithfully you will see the last of the cargo.” 

“ Very well. But, by the way,” I asked, “ what 
was that cargo you landed at home ? Was it 
curios ? ” 

“ Of course it wasn’t,” Edmund said, contempt¬ 
uously. 

“ I hope it was not more of this wretched stuff ? ” 

“ No, sir,” said Welfare, “ there would have been 
no use leaving that in England. That was ordinary 
old-fashioned smuggling. Brandy and cigars as a 
matter of fact. It’s done still from the Channel 
Islands when a chance occurs, and of course the 
Astarte was a chance. We had meant to get the 
stuff through the Customs along with our straight 
cargo somehow, but we had difficulties at Tilbury. 
Then this tunnel of yours cropped up, sir. It made 
the whole thing so easy we were going back to 
Guernsey for more. Only this hashish business 
got in the way, and we learned there was a warrant 
out for Jakoub. Well, if they’d got the Astarte 


CAPTAIN WELFARE EXPLAINS 209 

then, the whole thing would have come out. That 
was why our agents sent to warn us. Getting the 
Astarte back here without arrest was a fair master¬ 
piece ! But, by the Lord Harry ! it was anxious 
work. You've little idea what I went through, sir. 
And the course we steered—oh, my Lord ! " 

" Life was worth living for the time," said 
Edmund. " I often felt sorry you were missing all 
the fun of the gamble ! " 

“ Of course you knew all about this smuggling 
at home, Edmund ? " 

" Of course ! Don’t make anv mistake about 

*/ 

that. I was in it for all the money I could put up 
at the time." 

I sighed. The whole business was so very sordid. 
But after all, brandy and cigars were not going to 
poison anybody. The whole thing was stopped 
now, and in face of the horrible traffic I had circum¬ 
vented, I was not going to break my heart over his 
Majesty’s Customs Duties. 

“ Well, gentlemen," I said, " our business now is 
to get this load back on the Astarte. The sooner it’s 
done the better. I suppose we’re all agreed to get 
it away as suggested ? " 

“ I agree as there ain’t any other way." 

"How long will it take you to provision the 
ship ? " Edmund asked of Welfare. 

“ I could do that to-morrow at a pinch.’’ 

" Very well, to-morrow night we’ll shift this lot. 
Let me sec. All we want is a few fathoms of rope. 
I’ll bring that up in a suit-case. You and I will 
have to man-handle it out of this when Welfare 
brings up the felucca. Half a dozen good niggers 
will have it aboard as quick as we can lower it. 
Wclfarp, you’ll have plenty of fishing nets aboard to 
cover it up with. Then I’ll take the Astarte out 

o 


210 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 


first thing in the morning, and pick you up when 
we’re well out of sight.” 

So it was settled, and the scheme began at last 
to look quite feasible to me. 

“ I wish,” I said, " we could dine together, but I 
cannot leave this stuff unguarded, and it would be 
awkward here if my friend Brogden turned up. 
But, Edmund, I want you to sleep here to-night. 
I was disturbed last night, and I’m tired and sleepy. 
Anyhow, I’m a rotten shot with a revolver.” 

I had to tell them of Jakoub’s visit and my vigil 
with him, though I knew the knowledge of my 
danger would hurt both of them very sore. 

The things they said made me realise that I was 
not insensible to flattery. 

Brogden, to my relief, did not return that evening. 

When Edmund came back to my room we talked 
long together. But what we said I think concerns 
no one but ourselves. 

It left me happy in a new confidence that he 
would be restored at last to begin an honourable 
career. 

The night was comparatively cool and I slept for 
twelve hours. 


CHAPTER XII 


A MIDNIGHT ADVENTURE 

E DMUND had gone when I awoke, but he 
had left a note saying that he would be 
back early with what he called “ the fixings 
for to-night .’* He would remain all day, he said, 
and I was to go out and leave all to him. 

I was glad to be at liberty, for I felt as though 
I had been imprisoned for weeks in the hotel, 
and I detested the sight and the thought of the 
place. 

The Arab brought up a message that Brogden 
was waiting to see me. I went down, feeling for 
the first' time prepared to enjoy his society, so I 
agreed at once to lunch with him. He had a 
car outside and wanted to take me for a run round 
the more interesting parts of the city. I readily 
accepted the offer; but I could not leave until 
I knew Edmund was in charge, and so I invented 
pretexts to detain him. 

I took his advice as to the best boat to return 
home in, and asked for an introduction to his 
banker so that I might cash a cheque. Then I 
insisted that he should again procure his patent 
cock-tail. During this performance Edmund came 
into the hall with his bag v He saw me with a 
stranger and of course went upstairs without 
noticing me ; so I was free at last to leave. 

211 


212 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

We drove at first among the narrow flagged 
streets of the native quarter, which I specially 
desired to see, and all the brilliantly coloured but 
squalid scene, which seemed so commonplace to 
my friend, had for me a wonder and a charm which 
kept me silent. 

It was too soon for me when Brogden said, 
“ I guess you’ve seen enough of this now—and 
smelt enough. Now we’ll have a spin.” 

We came back through the central parts of 
the city, through squares and streets that might 
have belonged to Europe, along the wide, smooth 
surface of the Rue de la Porte Rosette, between 
rows of acacias with flaming blossoms, and stately 
tamarisks, past villas drenched in the purple of 
bougainvillia, dotted with the scarlet of the hibiscus, 
gardens with lawns kept green with infinite toil, 
and blazing geranium beds, and so out into the 
country among cotton-fields, orchards of figs and 
vines and plantations of dw r arf bananas. 

Everything was new and delightful to me, and 
the rush through the air completely conquered 
the heat. 

I had forgotten my companion and all my 
anxieties in surrendering myself to the delight 
of unaccustomed colours, when suddenly Brogden 
said: 

“ Those two fellows are back with their damned 
boat.” 

“ The two Englishmen you told me about ? ” 

“Yes, bad cess to them. They’ve done me 
again—for the time being. Only for the time 
being. I’m bound to have them. For one thing 
they haven’t a notion who’s on their track.” 

I felt meaner than ever before. The whole 
squalor of the business in w 7 hich I was involved 


A MIDNIGHT ADVENTURE 


213 

came back on me, and seemed to take the colour 
out of the sunshine. Yet I felt I must play the 
hand through, however dirty my cards might be. 

I was committed now to Edmund’s and Welfare’s 
side, and I must learn what I could, even though 
I should feel spotted with treachery all my life. 

“ What happened ? ” I asked. 

“ They got ahead of their time-table, or rather 
my time-table. One of my picket-boats picked 
them up only a few miles outside. The native 
rascal I was after was not with them, and there 
wasn’t a thing aboard that shouldn’t have been 
there. I'm practically certain they had a big 
lot of hashish with them, but they’d got rid of 
it. Unfortunately there was only a native officer 
in charge of my crowd, and naturally he got nothing 
out of them.” 

“ And what are you going to do now ? ” 

“ Oh, of course they’ve landed their rascal 
somewhere between this and the western frontier, 
and he is pretty sure to have the real cargo with 
him. He’s bound to make for Alexandria, and 
he’ll bring the stuff on camels to some hiding- 
place in the neighbourhood. I have every possible 
track watched, so I’m bound to get him.” 

“ What about the railway ? ” I asked with 
beating heart. 

“ Oh, no native dare put a load like that on 
the railway. It would be stopped and examined 
at once.” 

I saw clearly for the first time how essential 
I had been for the working out of Captain Welfare’s 
plan, and I could not but admire the soundness 
of his dispositions. I thought they showed that 
combination of imaginative power and attention 
to detail which is said to distinguish great com- 


214 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

manders. I remembered my first impressions of 
Welfare, and how I had instinctively thought 
of him as taking a lead in his line of life, what¬ 
ever it might be. Yet he had come to seem small 
in his ways, and paltry in his aims. I wpndered 
which was the real man, how much the Welfare 
I knew was but the product of untoward circum¬ 
stance. 

" What will you do about the Ast —the ship ? ” 

I had almost called her the Astarte, and shuddered 
at the.thought of the consequences of such a slip. 
To be found out now! unmasked as another 
“ renegade Englishman/’ a member of the gang ! 

“ I can’t touch her at present. I've no evidence 
yet. I must wait till I get this damned Arab.” 

“ Supposing she sails ? ” 

" She won’t sail at present. They’re waiting 
till they get their stuff safely here. If they went 
it would only be to pick up another load at some 
place on the Greek coast, and I should take jolly 
good care to get them on the way back. Nothing 
would suit me better.” 

We were back in the city now, and presently 
we pulled up at Brogden’s club. 

Here we lunched very comfortably, and I met 
many of his friends and brother officials. 

Everybody asked me if I had met so-and-so 
in Cairo. I felt with embarrassment that my 
social ignorance must seem almost uncanny. When 
I said my time in Egypt had been short and that 
I had spent it in sight-seeing, I knew I had utterly 
lost caste. To the official Englishman in a foreign 
country the only objects worthy of regard are 
other Englishmen and women. 

One elderly and evidently important person 
informed me that he had been twenty-five years in 


A MIDNIGHT ADVENTURE 


215 

Egypt and had never seen the Pyramids. “ And 
I never mean to,” he added with a glance of mingled 
pride and indignation. I had not seen the Pyramids 
myself, *but I felt it would be presumption on my 
part to say so, a futile attempt to regain the place 
I had lost in his esteem. 

He evidently regarded the Pyramids as bad 
form. I think he suspected Cheops and the other 
potentates who built them of having done so with 
a view to attracting the undesirable tourists of a 
dim future. He might have dined with Cheops 
himself, had that been possible, but he was not 
one of those who could be expected to be amused 
by the remains of a pyramid. Was he not high 
in the Ministry of Finance, and decorated by a 
grateful Sovereign with the Order of the Bath 
as a reward for that magnificent inaccessibility to 
ideas which makes the British Official so universally 
loved and respected. 

“ No, sir," he puffed, “ no Pyramids for me, 
thank you." 

I did not think highly of this particular person, 
but the rest were very pleasant fellows, and Brog- 
den was one of them. I was an outsider to them, 
and I was careful and troubled about many things 
at the moment. I could not enjoy their society as 
I would have done had they been my guests in 
my own vicarage. I desired very ardently to get 
away from them. 

From the instinct of ordinary politeness, I tried 
to conceal this desire, but I fear that I failed. 
Anyhow, Brogden got up and said we must go 
and see his banker and the shipping agents. 

I know I left that club with the reputation 
of a bore and a bit of a nuisance, but I console 
myself by reflecting that I was quite forgotten 


216 a MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

in five minutes. All the same I felt I had inflicted 
a further injury on the much-wronged Brogdcn. 
He had paid me the compliment of introducing 
me to his own little coterie in his favourite club. 
When one does that for a friend, one likes that 
friend to be a success. Among middle-aged men 
this is rarely possible. No doubt this is why 
our clubs at home debar the introduction of strange 
guests into the rooms frequented by members. 
I had not been a success, and as we went down 
in the lift I appreciated for the first time the pro¬ 
found knowledge of human nature that would 
prevent my taking Brogden into any room in 
my own club except one that suggests the waiting- 
room of a long-deceased dentist. 

The fact is that an old friend, however valued, 
is apt to be a nuisance when he suddenly emerges 
from the Past and bursts in on the routine of the 
Present. In spite of his cordiality, I could not 
help knowing that Brogdcn wanted to be back 
among his friends of to-day, and at his usual rubber 
of auction. 

Accordingly when our business, was finished, I 
made excuses for getting awav, and he let me go 
with shame-faced willingness. 

I found Edmund busy with a block and tackle 
arrangement he had slung to one of the bedposts, 
and watched him in some surprise. 

“ We can lower six cases at a time with this,” 
he said. “ I’m going to make a pair of shears out 
of a couple of these iron bedposts and make them 
fast over the bit of balcony outside the window. 
I reckon we shall be able to shift the lot in half 
an hour ; quite as quickly as they will load it. 
I hope Welfare has got the felucca all right. Did 
you get rid of your pal ? ” 


A MIDNIGHT ADVENTURE 


217 

“ I did. He’s fixed up for the evening at his 
club.” 

“ Good. He knows about the Astarte being in, I 
suppose ? ” 

“ Yes ; he told me all about it, and about searching 
her. He guesses Jakoub was landed just about 
where we did land. He is having all the routes 
to Alexandria watched.” 

“ Poor devil ! Is he a decent chap ? ” 

“ He is, very.” 

“ It’s rotten having to let him down.” 

“ Of course it is. But the whole thing is rotten,” 
1 said wearily. 

“ You still think this is the best scheme ? ” 

“ It is. Please don’t let us discuss it again. 
The alternative is unthinkable.” 

“ What is he doing about the Astarte ? ” 

“ Nothing. Pie has no evidence at present. I 
asked him what he would do if she sailed ? He 
said, ‘ She won’t sail. If she did it would be 
only to pick up another cargo, and he would have 
her then.’ ” 

" I believe,” said Edmund, “ he would have 
had us all right in the end—only for you.” 

“ Edmund,” I said after a long pause, “ what 
about Jakoub ? ” 

“ Jakoub is at present our only risk. For¬ 
tunately he doesn’t know our name. Nobody 
knows that, but of course he could identify us. 
He can’t give us away unless he’s caught and done 
for himself, then of course he would. I don’t 
think he will be caught, but if not he will try 
blackmail.” 

I shuddered at the thought of spending the 
rest of my life under the threats of this man. I 
remembered the impulse I had felt to shoot him, 


218 a MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 


and dreaded the possibility of being subjected to 
such a temptation again. 

“ Couldn’t you take him home with you ? ” 

“ He wouldn’t come. And what could we do with 
him if he did ? It would only make it easier 
for' him to start his blackmailing. He’ll probably 
want to get to England in any case, and there’s 
no use our giving him a passage ! ” 

A note came from Captain Welfare announcing 
that the Astarte would be ready to start in the 
morning, and that he would meet us with the 
felucca as arranged. He was too busy to join us 
then. 

“ He must have had a heavy day,” I said. 

“ Yes,” agreed Edmund. “ It’s not everyone 
could have done it. But I must say for Welfare 
he’s a worker. Nothing will stop him when he’s 
fairly on a job.” 

I am myself naturally very deficient in energy, 
and so‘ perhaps have an exaggerated respect for 
it in other people. I detest the photographs one 
sometimes sees of raucous politicians declaiming 
with wide-open mouths, uplifted fists, and over¬ 
developed facial muscles. To many, I know, 
such men are the type of energy and what they 
call “ efficiency.” The men whom I have wor¬ 
shipped, whose names I have seldom known, are 
those who have made great roads and bridges in 
remote places, who have conceived ships and mighty 
engines, and the few god-like ones who have written 
the great books of the world. 

Between such men and myself there is a great 
gulf fixed ; but between me and the loud-voiced 
politician there is only my own fastidiousness. 

Some of this nobler energy Captain Welfare 
possessed in his degree. His intelligence was 


A MIDNIGHT ADVENTURE 


219 

of quite a high order; he had the face and aspect 
of a man intended for doing things on a large scale ; 
he had the simplicity and lovableness of a great 
man, and he was unhampered by what we call 
“ higher education." 

Yet beyond escaping from the dry-salter’s shop 
he had done nothing with his life. He had seen 
men and cities, butr^he had not known them; 
he had certainly not commanded them. Had he 
succeeded in his first primitive ambition of making 
money, it might have been replaced by a nobler 
one, and in that he would have succeeded too. 
But he had failed. Poking about amid adversity 
he had done “ shady" things ; he had' done this 
one blindly dishonourable thing. But successful 
men, who have the. choice of avoiding dishonour, 
have done far worse things, and I believed that as a 
successful, happy man, Welfare would have done 
nothing base. 

What is the flaw in such men as this, these 
many men who ought to bequeath something to 
their race ? Is it all the bishop’s " want of oppor¬ 
tunity " ? Was Edmund also to become one of 
them ? That was to me the most poignant question. 

As there was no chance of Brogden’s returning 
we ventured to lock the door of our room and dine 
together downstairs. But it was not a festive 
meal. 

The cloud of anxiety for the enterprise in hand 
was dark over us, and beyond that the sky of the 
future looked gloomy enough. There was the 
threat of Jakoub’s malevolence and, more serious 
to me, the question of Edmund’s eventual future. 

I tried to get him to talk of this, but it was 
as though he could not see himself apart from 
the associations of his past. 


220 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 


“ How can I get rid of it ? ” he asked. “ I 
am only avoiding exposure now for your sake— 
and the family name. Otherwise I believe I 
should feel better if I went through the mill and 
took what I have earned ; prison for a bit, and 
then the fo’c’sle for the rest of my time. It would 
be a way of disappearing, and that's all I want now.” 

“ Naturally ; but you have no right to think 
only of what you want,” I said, “ you are wanted 
yourself.” 

“ Yes, by the police ! ” 

“ Don’t scoff just now, old boy. Your services 
are wanted. I know you have capacities that 
have never been used, never touched. The plain 
fact of the matter is that up to now you have 
lived and acted as a boy—amusing yourself. I 
don’t want to rub it in, but now you have got to 
make up for it by giving a man’s work to the world 
while you can.” 

“ How can I ? What can I do ? I can do 
nothing but sail a ship. Ten thousand old duffers 
can do that better.” 

“ There is just one thing you can do that every¬ 
one cannot do. You can command.” 

All men like to be told they are capable of com¬ 
mand, and Edmund did not question my statement. 

“ Much chance I have now of commanding 
anything or anybody,” was all he said. 

“ Remember you come of the officer class,” I 
said. “ We have ceased to be a ruling class. 
I know it’s old-fashioned even to think we are a 
class. The vulgar call it ‘ snobbish.’ But heredity 
remains a law of Nature, and democracy is only 
an invention of man.” 

“ I don’t see that social theories are going to 
help us much just now.” 


A MIDNIGHT ADVENTURE 


221 


“ Then Ell come down to hard facts. How¬ 
ever wrong and corrupt it may be, we are still 
to some extent a privileged class. And owing 
to that fact you can still get a fresh start, which, 
to be perfectly frank, a plebeian could not get.” 

“ How do you mean ? ” he asked with an eagerness 
that greatly encouraged me. 

I told him then of the bishop’s suggestion about 
the Colonial Service. 

Edmund made no reply. He was leaning his 
elbows on the table, balancing a spoon on the 
edge of a knife. The spoon see-sawed dangerously, 
and I watched it in an agony lest it should fall. 
It seemed as though our fate somehow depended 
on its equilibrium. 

It swung slowly to a balance and came to rest. 

“ Do you think,” Edmund asked, watching the 
spoon, “ that the bishop would still do that, or 
try to do it, if he knew all this business ? ” 

" I don’t know. He will have to be told first.” 

“ Of course.” 

“ I shall tell him the whole story. Would 
you refuse such an offer if it came to you ? ” I 
asked, fearful that my voice had betrayed my 
eagerness. 

He laid the spoon carefully down on the table 
and withdrew the knife. 

“ No,” he said, “ I should not refuse it, after 
what you have said.” 

I had gained all that I wanted, and much more 
than I could have expected so soon. There was 
no more to be said and no excuse for our lingering 
at the table. 

We went out into the lounge to drink our coffee, 
both looking at English illustrated papers a fort¬ 
night old. Their dullness seemed intolerable in 


222 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

this weary gap of inactivity that had to be lived 
through before the time came for our final risk. 

“ I can’t stand this any longer,” said Edmund 
suddenly, throwing down a sheet of snapshots of 
advertising peeresses at race-meetings, foolishly 
photographed in the awful ungainliness which the 
camera reveals in the act of walking. 

“ Let’s go out and walk or drive somewhere.” 

“ We can’t both leave. It’s not safe,” I reminded 
him. 

I persuaded him to go out alone, for I felt I 
could better endure the irksomeness without him. 

I returned to my room and sat by the window 
looking out over the sea, and listening to the sound 
of its waves on the sea-wall. The sound of the 
sea is always soothing and always melancholy, 
but it is especially so in distant places, for the 
sea has but one voice, everywhere its murmur 
is the same that we hear at home. 

Edmund, came in about midnight, and we sat 
together in the dark by the window. 

Next door to the hotel there was a cafe, and 
its chairs and tables were spread out over the 
wide foot-path. We could .see under its electric 
lights the tops and tassels of tarbooshes, and the 
white discs of straw hats whose owners sat sipping 
coffee or lager beer, and eating olives and strange 
sweets. Most of them were talking loudly, and a 
strange babel of Arabic, Greek, Italian and French 
came up to us from the pavement. 

“ I have seen the policeman on duty,” said 
Edmund, “ and put him all right with fifty piastres. 
The street will be as quiet as the grave when that 
infernal cafe shuts up.” 

“ It closes at one,” I said. 

The moon, now some four days past the full, 


A MIDNIGHT ADVENTURE 


223 

was but newly risen, but star-light is very real 
in Egypt, and presently we could just make out 
the pale pointed sail of a felucca going slowly 
close-hauled to windward., 

“ That will be Welfare,” said Edmund. 

“ Isn’t he too soon ? ” 

" He’s all right. He’ll go up to windward 
till he sees the lights go out, then take the sail 
off her and drift down here. I arranged to switch 

the light on and off a bit to show'him where we 

_ _ _ >> \ 

are. 

All the windows on our side of the hotel were 
dark, as the building fortunately faced on to the 
side street. The company at the cafe was thinning, 
and the guests who remained were calling for their 
final drinks. 

" It’s about time to get to work,” Edmund 
said, “ but I’m going to have a whisky and soda 
brought up. It will look more natural to Van 
Ermengen if he has any suspicions; besides, I want 
it.” 

“ No, there is nothing else to-night,” he said to 
the Arab who brought up the tray, and then he 
started methodically to take one of the bedsteads 
to pieces. 

He took the two long pieces that formed the 
sides of the bed and lashed the ends of them together, 
crossing each other. From this cross he slung 
the block he had been experimenting with, and 
rove an end of the long rope through it. 

I held the rods for him as he worked, greatly 
admiring the sailor-like precision and neatness, 
the economy of rope and of knots, with which 
the implement was completed. He put out the 
light and brought the whole arrangement to the 
window, and in a few seconds he had all the 


224 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

essentials of a jib-crane projecting over the balcony 
and firmly lashed to it. 

He knotted the end of the rope into a double 
bowline (a bowline on the bight, he called it) w’hich 
just held six of our packing-cases securely. 

“Now I think w r e’ve earned a drink,” he said 
quite cheerfully, as he switched on the light again, 
and filled a couple of tumblers. 

“ We shall have to work in our socks and move 
about as little as possible,” he explained. “ As 
soon as Welfare is ready I w r ant you to hand me 
the cases. I’ll put them on the parapet and get 
them slung. You must hang on to the rope and 
take the strain w r hen I get them over the side. 
Then lower slowly. Do you understand ? ” 

“Perfectly.” 

“ I’m sorry to give you so much of the hard 
work, but I must see to the slinging myself. If 
a case slipped and fell—well, that w T ould about 
close the operation.” 

“ I don't mind the wx>rk,” I assured him, “ I 
only wish we were at it.” 

“ It w'on’t be long now. The cafe is shutting up.” 

I looked out of the window. Tired waiters w r ere 
dragging in chairs from the pavement, and whisking 
the stained cloths off the very tables at which a 
few guests lingered, reluctant to leave. Others 
w T ere closing shutters with a rattle. 

The moonlight was steadily increasing, and now 
lit up the pink and yellow plaster of the tall shabby 
houses that faced the sea between us and the 
native quarter. It lit the minarets of a couple 
of third-rate mosques behind the houses, giving 
them an hour of delicacy and beauty which the 
crude sun denied them. The lamps along the 
sea-front paled, and the lights in windows dis- 


A MIDNIGHT ADVENTURE 


225 

appeared one by one. The last tram crashed by, 
and a belated gharry passed with some shouting 
youths in it. Then silence settled down on the 
city as the moon raised herself above the buildings 
east of us, and “ with delight looked round her 
when the heavens were bare.” 

Edmund noiselessly flicked the switch up and 
down three or four times, and lighting a cigarette 
came back to the window wdiere we waited together 
in silence. 

Presently a dark spot appeared on the sea to 
windward, and soon we could see the felucca drop¬ 
ping down-wind towards us. The big lateen sail 
w r as stowed and she came slowly on. Not a word 
was spoken as she sidled up to the sea-wall, which 
hid all but the top of her swaying spar. 

In another moment Captain Welfare with a 
couple of natives was looking up at us from the 
pavement. 

“ All right ? ” he asked in a whisper. 

“ All right.” 

“ Lower away, then ! ” 

The first load was ready and we lowered it as 
arranged. The rope ran noiselessly on the care¬ 
fully oiled pully. While the natives carried the 
cases to the boat, we got another load ready. 
Nobody stirred in the hotel. A gharry came 
past at walking pace ; but we heard it coming 
and put the light out. Captain Welfare stood 
close to the w T all below us. The driver passed on 
without taking any notice. He delayed us about 
three minutes and made my heart beat unpleasantly. 
There were jusr nine loads for our derrick; but 
thanks to Edmund’s arrangements the whole 
job was finished noiselessly and without a hitch 
in less than forty minutes. 


p 


226 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

As the last load reached the ground Captain 
Welfare whispered up, “ Good-bye ! ” 

“ Good-bye and good luck ! ” I answered, and 
without another word he went across the road. 

I saw him clamber clumsily pver the sea-wall, 
and then the felucca was pulling out to sea. Just 
as she got out of sight I heard the creak of the 
halyard as they got the sail on her. 

I came back into the room, exhausted and 
streaming with sweat but happy. It was hard 
to realise that this most difficult and dreaded 
part of our task was actually over and without 
the slightest mishap. 

I thought of Pilgrim and his rejoicing when he 
at last got rid of his burden. Mine had indeed 
been grievous, and, like Pilgrim’s, it had been a 
burden of sin, even if not my own. 

" Thank God that’s over ! ” I said. 

“ Yes, it’s a good job it’s gone so well. By 
Jove ! how hot you are. Strip and have a sponge 
down and get into your pyjamas. I must put 
this bed to rights and pack the tackle.” 

I took his advice and made myself comfortable 
as he plainly needed no help. 

“ Now I think we’ll have our final drink. Then 
I’ll have a couple of hours’ doss, and be off soon 
after dawn. I must not leave poor old Welfare 
too long in that beastly felucca. He won’t be 
having a very comfortable time, I can tell you. 
If those natives guessed what they had aboard 
I wouldn’t give much for his life.” 

“ Good Heavens ! I never thought of that! ” 

“ I know you didn’t. We didn’t want you to. 
But he has all ready to blow up the boat and cargo 
if he’s attacked. He would run no risk of the stuff 
getting back into circulation. Yes ; on the whole 


A MIDNIGHT ADVENTURE 


227 

old Welfare’s part of this racket is one of the few 
really courageous things I have known a man do.” 

And I had never said a word to him ! I had 
not known ! 

“ He’s as pleased as punch about it,” continued 
Edmund. “ He’s a sentimental old boy, and he 
has a feeling that he’s doing something to make 
up for the way he has treated you.” 

“ I shall be miserable until I know he is safe,” 
I said. 

” Oh, the odds are on him ! Even if he has to 
hold the crew off with his revolver ! Those fellows 
are easily cowed, and they know the Astarte is 
coming up. The danger-is that they may rush 
him in the dark. Well, here’s luck to him ! ” 

But I could not take it so lightly, and I was 
certain that Edmund did not in his heart. I 
understood that he had felt bound to tell me in 
justice to Welfare, and now this anxiety would 
overshadow all the others until the suspense were 
over. 

“ You’re about done, anyhow,” Edmund said; 
“ do get to bed. You’ll sleep all right.” 

“ I think I will. I am tired, but wake me before 
you go, if I’m asleep.” 

“ Shah I? ” 

“ Of course. I want to say good-bye.” 

The dawn had come and it was daylight when 
I was awakened by hearing him moving about the 
room. 

“ I shouldn’t have had the heart to wake you,” 
he said. “ Good-bye. I say, you’ve been a brick. 
I wish I could tell you. Good-bye.” 

And with this he left the room and went on his 
way. 


CHAPTER XIII 


CAPTAIN WELFARE KEEPS HIS PROMISE 

M Y boat did not sail until the following 
day, and I now felt a degree of mental 
and bodily lassitude and exhaustion 
that prevented my having any pleasure in the 
prospect of my last day in Egypt. I suffered 
from a profound nostalgia and craved only to be 
home. I had the feeling that I should never 
see my experiences in perspective until I saw them 
from my own study. Much as I dreaded the 
sight of him, I yet longed to see Jakoub, to have 
a final reckoning with him, to find out at least 
his intentions and know the worst; but Jakoub 
did not appear, and I had not the faintest idea 
how to find him. 

I was very lonely and depressed as I gave notice 
to the hotel people that I should leave the following 
morning. 

Van Ermengen had kept out of my way since 
our last interview, but the news of my departure 
brought him at once to see me. 

His manner was grave and courteous as he 
bade me good morning. “ Excuse me,” he said, 
“ but I understand you sail to-morrow ? ” 

“ That is so.” 

“ Have you any instructions about the—ah— 
the goods in your room ? ” 

228 


CAPTAIN WELFARE’S PROMISE 229 

“ No ; I don’t think I have, thank you/' 

“ They cannot remain here, you know/' 

“ Of course not.” I fear I was spitefully enjoying 
his perplexity and deliberately prolonging it. 

" But you cannot take them with you.” 

“ I had not thought of doing so.” 

“ But what am I to do ? I must have the 
necessary authority to hand them over.” 

“ You won't be bothered about it at all, Mr. Van 
Ermengen.” , . 

“ But I will be, I must be ! I will not hand 
over the goods to anybody without authority.” 

“ You will not be asked to ; it is all arranged.” 

I turned away, but he came after me and caught 
my arm. 

” But this is my house,” he said, getting more 
excited ; “ tilings like this cannot be arranged with¬ 
out my knowledge.” 

” It seems to me that they have been,” I said 
coldly, shaking off his hand. “ ‘ The goods/ 
as you call them, are in the charge of my partner.” 

“ But he cannot leave them here without con¬ 
sulting me.” 

”1 suppose not,” I agreed; “I suppose that 
is why they have taken them away.” 

“ Taken them away ? ” he repeated. 

I nodded. His look of perplexity changed 
to one of suspicion, and then suspicious fury. 

“ But they cannot do this without my know¬ 
ledge. It is impossible ! ” 

“ Well, they have done it. You can go and see 
for yourself.” 

The man began to lose self-control and raised 
his voice. 

“ But it is not legal,” he cried shrilly ; “ it is 
robbery ! ” 


230 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

We were in the entrance hall of the hotel, and 
there were people standing and sitting about. 

“ Please don’t make a scene here,” I said. “ It 
cannot do any good, and it is unpleasant.” 

He glared at me, but controlled his voice. 

" Will you please to come into my office and 
discuss this matter ? ” 

“ I see nothing to discuss.” 

“ But I demand an explanation. Some of this 
property is mine,” he blustered. “ It was in 
your charge. If it has been stolen-” 

“ Come, then,” I said. “ I will talk it over.” I saw 
that if I refused to go with him there certainly would 
be a scene, with, possibly, disastrous consequences. 

He led me into the office where I had heard 
him talking with Jakoub. There was a sort of 
sloping counter along the wall under the window 
with papers and big account books on it, and we 
both stood by this facing each other. Van Ermen- 
gen’s thin, knife-like face was eager and male¬ 
volent. It would have frightened me once, I 
reflected, but I had faced him before and had 
the better of him. Now I felt a kind of queer 
pleasure in the idea of conflict with him. 

“ I will have this cleared up at once,” he began. 

“ Certainly, that will be best,” I assented. 

“ I will not be played fast and loose with.” 

“ Not by me, Mr. Van Ermengen, certainly.” 

“ It is by you ! ” he insisted. “ You speak of 
your partners, They are my partners. But I 
do not know you. I have no arrangement with 
you.” 

“ None at all, except that I am responsible 
for settling my bill. I think under the circum¬ 
stances I had better settle it now and change my 
quarters.” 



CAPTAIN WELFARE’S PROMISE 231 

“ It is not of that I speak, and I do not appreciate 
to be mocked ! I tell you I had an interest, a 
considerable interest, in the goods which you insisted 
to have in your room. You tell me the goods 
are gone. Very well, I hold you responsible to me. 
I will have my money, please, if I do not have 
the goods. I will not be robbed by any damned 
sham parson.” 

“You shall not,” I said quietly. “ I am rather 
at a loss here in your country, but at home if you 
wanted to charge me with theft you would only 
have to call a policeman and give me in charge, 
as they call it. I happen to know these things 
because I am a county magistrate, as well as being 
a perfectly genuine parson.” 

“ Damn you,” said Van Ermengen, whose temper 
seemed to have gone; but who was as much 
impressed by the word “ magistrate ” as the lower 
orders still are in England, in spite of the degrada¬ 
tion which has overtaken the once respectable Com¬ 
mission of the Peace. 

There was a lull in the storm. 

“ I do not want your police,” he said at length. 
“ I want my money.” 

“ And I will pay nothing, beyond my hotel 
bill, except through police or lawyers.” 

“ How did they get the stuff away ? ” he asked, 
his curiosity getting the better of his anger. “ Dam¬ 
nation, they must have taken it through the 
window ! ” 

“ I don’t think it matters,” I said indifferently. 
“You must get any information you want from 
them. As you say, you and I have no business 
relations.” 

“But I will have my money,” he spluttered. 
“ You will not leave Alexandria till I get it.” 


232 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

* 

This made me uneasy, because I did not know 
what the man might do, or could do. But I felt 
it was essential not to betray any uneasiness. 

“ I shall certainly sail to-morrow/' I said, “ and 
I do not consider it worth my while to change 
my quarters. If you attempt to interfere with 
me in any way, I shall simply report you to a 
friend of mine as an importer of hashish-" 

“ For God's sake, hush ! " he exclaimed. “ Do 
not shout that word." 

“ I have nothing to fear," I assured him. “ I 
do not mind who hears me say it. When I came 
here I did not know what the vile stuff was. By a 
coincidence I learned all about it, and I determined 
to stop your vile trade. I have acted accordingly. 
You may believe that or not; it does not matter 
what you believe. I made my friends remove your 
poison and theirs—it was not mine. It will never 
be sold. I shall see it destroyed. If you are 
wronged you can take what action you please. 
But I warn you, Mr. Van Ermengen, you will 
not get a penny out of me except by process of 
law. Now, if I am incommoded in any way while 
I remain here, I know what to do. I have nothing 
more to say, and I shall be glad if you will have 
my bill ready for me in good time in the morning." 

“ You will hear more of this," said Van Ermengen 
as I left his office. I thought it was rather a feeble 
remark, but I feared greatly that I should hear 
more of it, and that Jakoub would be the medium 
through which I should hear. 

It was a relief when Brogden rang me up and 
asked me to spend the afternoon and dine with 
him at the Yacht Club. I forgot all my troubles 
while I held the tiller of his two-and-a-half rater. 

Although we spent the afternoon and evening 



CAPTAIN WELFARE’S PROMISE 233 

together, there was no more said about the hashish 
business. I understood that he must be at a loss 
and would avoid reference to it, and I had no longer 
any reason to question him. 

Brogden saw me off at the dock the next morning. 

I greatly dislike being “ seen off,” but after 
all his kindness I could not tell him so. Thus it 
was that I, who had so strangely and unintentionally 
stumbled into Egypt, left the land of sunshine 
and mystery like any respectable and most common¬ 
place traveller. 

The low line of yellow sand-hills we had been so 
long approaching a few days ago soon sank below 
the horizon as the great steamer rushed seawards, 
and in spite of the sorrow that had come upon 
me there, I felt a certain sadness at seeing the 
land fade from sight. I felt that there in these 
few days I had had more of a man’s part in the 
world than in all the other days of my life. I 
knew that what I had done there would offend 
many consciences more conventional than mine. 
A legal phrase cropped up in my mind, and I 
believed that I had “ compounded a misdemeanour.” 
I had certainly sailed “ close to the wind.” But 
I believed that I had saved my brother from 
irretrievable disaster. I had done what I could 
to break up a nefarious conspiracy, and though 
I now saw things that might have been better 
done, I looked my conscience in the face and was 
not ashamed. 

That evening just at sunset I saw a sail ahead 
of us. It looked small and insignificant in the 
distance, but a great hope came over me that 
it might be the Astarte. As we overhauled her 
she altered her course so that we should pass closer 
to her, and I saw the leg-o’-mutton sails, the long 


234 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

high bows and the bowsprit with its head-sails 
“ like a skein of geese/' I found myself close to 
one of the ship’s officers as I leaned on the taffrail 
watching her. 

“ What the devil is that idiot doing ? " he said; 
“ she looks as if she wanted to cross our bows. 
There’ll be some swearing on the bridge if she makes 
us alter course ! ” 

“ She won’t,” I remarked. The officer looked 
at me with surprise and some amusement. I 
suppose it did seem quaint in a clerical passenger 
to assume a knowledge of nautical matters. But 
in a minute or two the helmsman let her away 
again, and put her back on a course nearly parallel 
to our own. The officer glanced at me as though 
there were something uncanny about me. At the 
same moment I saw a string of flags mount to 
her peak. The officer got his glass on her. 

“ I beg your pardon. Can you tell me what 
that signal is ? ” 

“ Yes; it’s 4 All well/ I wonder who the 
deuce they think they’re speaking, or what they’re 
playing at, anyhow. She’s one of those little 
Levantine fruit boats. But she looks cleaner than 
most of them.” 

A great weight was taken off my mind, for I 
knew that Captain Welfare was safe, and they 
had taken this chance of telling me so, no doubt 
guessing I would find someone to read the signal. 

We were rapidly overhauling the Astarte, and I 
saw that our converging courses would soon bring 
us within a few cables’ length of each other. 

Already through my glasses I could recognise 
Edmund at the wheel, and Captain Welfare holding 
by the shrouds, directing the movements of some 
of the crew for’ard. 


CAPTAIN WELFARE’S PROMISE 235 

I raised my white helmet at arm’s length above 
my head, but it was doubtful whether they saw 
the signal; for already I was surrounded by a 
group of curious passengers, all waving handkerchiefs 
in obedience to that strange instinct which creates 
a sense of excited fellowship between strangers who 
meet and pass each other in ships or railway trains. 

However, my movement was immediately followed 
by a wave of Captain Welfare’s hand, and'Something 
splashed into the sea and sank in the A started 
wake. 

The splash was repeated, and I could see that 
the crew were heaving overboard the precious, 
hateful cargo. 

Captain Welfare was keeping his promise. 

' I watched the process, fascinated at first, infinitely 
thankful to feel that the load of iniquity which 
had so burdened my spirit was thus at last cast 
into the sea and the Astarte purged of sin. But 
very soon I was recalled to uneasiness. 

The curiosity of the silly passengers around 
me was excited by the process, and I still scented 
danger in every trivial circumstance connected 
with the nefarious trade. 

“ Whatever are they doing ? ” was the question 
I heard repeated all around me. 

The ship’s officer beside me came unexpectedly 
to my relief. 

“ Chucking bad rations overboard,” he replied 
to one of the more eager questioners. 

“ Those Levantine schooners,” he added, in an 
oracular tone, as he turned round from the taffrail 
to explain to his audience. “ Those Levantine 
schooners always load up with condemned bully- 
and other blown tins to feed their dago crew on. 
Sometimes they drive it too far, and the stuff gets 


236 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

into such a condition that nobody can live aboard 
with it. Then it has got to be jettisoned. That 
is what they are doing. Those fellow’s drew across 
to us because they were frightened of a mutiny 
while they chucked the stuff away.” 

He closed his telescope with a snap and looked 
round impressively, receiving the homage which 
landsmen pay to the omniscience of the officers 
responsible for their lives. 

Thus was one minor wrinkle of anxiety smoothed 
away for me. 

The Astarte fell rapidly astern, and the setting 
sun turned her white sails to bronze. In spite of all 
that had happened I longed to be back aboard her. 

“ I hope,” Edmund had said, “ that you will 
always keep a w r arm place in your heart for her.” 
I found I had, and that it would hurt me as much 
as him when she was sold. 

My blunder about “ scrap price ” had been 
prophetic. 

When I thought of the little familiar cabin of the 
Astarte, all the pomp of the saloons and state¬ 
rooms on the steamer seemed to me but vanity 
and vulgarity. 

I was back in my vicarage. In my absence the 
tremulous passion of spring had passed into the 
suave splendour of early June. I grudged having 
missed the pageant of April and May, for at my 
age one. begins to count the number of springs one 
can still hope to see. I had rather dreaded my 
arrival and the necessity of explaining things, 
but it was made much easier for me than I had 
dared to hope. 

Travellers are often disappointed by the lack 
of interest in their experiences which they find 


CAPTAIN WELFARE’S PROMISE 237 

among those they left at home. The fact that 
they have temporarily enlarged the orbit of their 
little swid or. this planet gives them a new sense 
of their own importance. They are apt to look 
upon events that have happened at home as trivial, 
merely because they happened at home and not 
in some other latitude. Until they settle down 
again, they think of the people around them as 
absurdly interested in ve r y minor matters. They 
forget that in them too distance had once annihilated 
interest, and will do so again. 

As always happens on such occasions, Bates 
and Mrs. Rattray were much more eager to impart 
information than to receive it, and for once the 
returned adventurer was sincerely thankful for 
this perfectly natural attitude of mind. 

Mrs. Rattrav had deemed the occasion of sufficient 
importance to emerge from her own precincts and 
welcome me in the hall. 

“ We were glad to get your wire, sir,” she said 
as Bates took my coat and brought my scanty 
luggage in. 

“ I was afraid you would be very uneasy,” I 
said, feeling like a guilty schoolboy. “ But I 
simply hadn't a chance to send word, and I could 
not resist going on.” 

“ No, sir. It would have been a pity as long 
as you were enjoying it. We didn't worry the 
first fortnight. But then we did expect to hear. 
I would have been very anxious, only the weather 
kept so fine I felt you couldn't come to any harm, 
only for them wild men on the ship, sir. Bates 
didn’t like the looks of them at all.” 

“ Oh, they were really most harmless fellows.” 

“ How did you leave Mr. Edmund, sir ? ” asked 
Bates. 


238 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

“ Quite well, thank you. He is on his way 
home, but it will be a few weeks before he gets 
back. Where is Mr. Snape ? " 

“He is away for the day, sir. He told me to 
apologise to you, and tell you he had made an 
appointment with his Lordship. He thought it 
better not to put it off/' 

“ Quite right. There's no trouble, I hope ? " 

“ Well, sir," Mrs. Rattray explained, “ they 
will be very glad to see you again in the parish. 
Oh no, not trouble exactly, but they don’t seem 
to hold with some of his ways, I don’t know why. 
I'm sure a quieter gentleman in the house I never 
knew." 

The highest praise Mrs. Rattray ever gave to one 
of my sex was to describe him as “ quiet." She 
seemed to suspect all men of a tendency to sudden 
outbursts of noise. 

“ Some of them don't like his ritualistic ways, 
sir," said Bates. “ There were none of the regular 
sidesmen collecting last Sunday, and there has 
been trouble because he asked Miss Reynolds to 
be secretary of his new communicants' guild. 
She’s only been a year in the parish, and they 
did not like the idea of a guild, anyhow." 

“ All right, Bates. No doubt Mr. Snape will 
tell me all about it. Now I must go and see the 
pigeons till lunch is ready. Then I'll have a walk 
round the village." 

All was well in my pigeon-loft, and the young 
birds were promising. It was a peaceful little 
world. I sighed as I thought what a pity it was 
that Christians could not make more allowance 
for each other's fads. Most of us* are so terribly 
anxious to close all avenues to the Kingdom of 
Heaven except our own crooked little path. 


CAPTAIN WELFARE’S PROMISE 239 

Among my parishioners in the afternoon I found 
that I had to protect poor Snape from a wide¬ 
spread suspicion of his being a secret emissary of the 
Vatican. The other mistake he had made was 
to start only three of his “ organisations.” There 
was thus much jealousy about the filling of official 
positions in connection with them. I saw at once 
that in a community as small as ours the only 
sane method would be to start sufficient " organisa¬ 
tions ” simultaneously to provide secretaryships 
and treasurerships for the whole of the adult Church 
population. I decided to do this, unless the existing 
ones first died a natural death. I hoped they 
would for so far they did not seem to have made 
people behave better, but had been the source 
of a good deal of envy, hatred, malice, and all 
uncharitableness. 

However, all this turmoil saved me from enquiries 
about my own recent movements. They were 
much too preoccupied to take any interest in 
these, though they were, I believe, unfeignedly 
thankful to see me back among them. I decided 
to preach to them about Charity. I would tell 
them that though nobody knew exactly what St. 
Paul meant by “ Charity,” for all his list of attri¬ 
butes, yet we all knew exactly what was meant by 
“ uncharitableness,” and that the main thing was 
to avoid the latter. 

On getting home I wrote to the bishop. I 
apologised, unnecessarily I knew, for my prolonged 
absence. I told him frankly it was impossible 
to explain this in a letter, but that I had many 
surprising and painful things to tell him, and was 
in great need of his counsel. I besought him to 
give me an opportunity of talking to him as soon 
as he could spare an hour or two, and added as 


240 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

in duty bound, that it was not in connection with 
the affairs of the parish that I wished to trouble 
him, but that my distresses were entirely personal. 

His reply was delayed a day owing to his departure 
for London, but I will quote a part of it here. “ I 
could give you a brief interview immediately on 
my return, but I feel sure from the tone of your 
letter that you have matters to discuss that demand 
more than this. If you could have me for a night 
next week we could talk things over as of old. 
It would be a great pleasure and rest to me too. 
For the time is a terribly harassing one. I think 
it is not at all generally known how fearfully anxious 
the European situation is becoming. There are 
many forces at work that appear to be intent 
on war, and I feel that Satan may be unchained 
among us almost any day. Do not, however, 
speak of this at present, and if you wish to see 
me earlier do not hesitate to come over to the 
Palace any day after to-morrow. 

APoor Snape was over the day you wrote, and 
told me of his troubles with your flock. I am 
arranging other, and I hope more suitable, duty 
for him. Dare I ask you to keep him with you 
for a few days ? I know he has to consider expense, 
as he has got into debt, among other troubles, 
purely through financing some of his own attempts 
at ‘organisation.’ To paraphrase the Book of 
Common Prayer: ‘ He has left unpaid those bills 
he ought to have paid, and paid those bills he 
ought not to have paid, and there is no sense in 
him/ 

“You will no doubt have perceived that he is 
one of those excellent, earnest idiots that are so 
hard to keep out of mischief. But he is a lovable 
soul too, and capable of great good if I could only 


CAPTAIN WELFARE’S PROMISE 241 

find the right sphere for him. I know you will 
not mind helping me to help him.” 

The bishop’s letter made me feel that, after all, 
I did know what St. Paul had meant by “ Charity.” 
It was the spirit that could see the worst in a man 
and believe the best of him, the love that could 
recognise folly and succour it without contempt. 

After having mingled so much with what was 
base, and paltry, and mean, the thought of seeing 
the bishop again was to me like mountain air to one 
who had dwelt in a dungeon. 

Snape returned in time for dinner, and after a 
few perfunctory enquiries about my “ trip,” as he 
called it, he told me of his interview with the 
bishop. 

“ I could see at once,” he said, “ that his Lord- 
ship was put out. He had a very worried’ look. 
Somebody must have told him about the attitude 
of the people here.” 

“ Perhaps he has something else to worry about 
besides this parish.” 

“ Oh no ! He seemed full of it, of the parish, 
I mean. He spoke of nothing else all the time I 
was with him.” 

“ And did he make any suggestions ? ” 

“ He was most kind, most kind; and very 
interested, but-” 

“ Yes ? ” 

" I don’t at all wish to be misunderstood, or 
to seem in any way wanting in respect for his 
Lordship, but I cannot honestly say that he was 
very helpful.” 

“I’m sorry to hear that.” 

“ No, I really would not call his advice helpful. 
He seems to share your view that scientific organisa¬ 
tion in parochial affairs is not universally applicable. ” 

Q 



242 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

“ Good heavens ! I never said that ! " 

“Not perhaps in those words, but that is how 
I have formulated what I understood you to say." 

“ My dear fellow. I couldn’t have thought of 
anything half so brainy. I was only afraid that 
those sort of things wouldn’t work very well in this 
particular parish. As a matter of fact, they don’t 
seem to be taking very kindly to them, do they ? ” 

“ They need educating," said Snape, quite 
complacently. “ At the start there is bound to 
be friction. And, as you know, friction always 
generates heat ! " 

He evidently felt that he had said a neat thing, 
and laughed in the manner of a pious man making 
an innocent concession to frivolity. I felt as if 
he were beginning to hypnotise me. 

“ What we should do," he continued with a 
bland air of superior wisdom, “ is just as in mechanics 
—to find the co-efficient of friction, that’s what we 
want—the co-efficient of friction." 

“ What we want is lubricating oil, I should 
think." 

“ Quite, quite. Oh yes, we must have our 
lubricating oil too, but at a later stage. We must 
first find our co-efficient." 

He had a morbid delight in the phrase, a bubble 
from the forgotten mathematics of his Little-go 
days that something had set dancing in his brain¬ 
pan. I knew it had no meaning in this connection, 
but like most of us, the man did not want meanings. 
I saw he would make a great hit at a clerical meeting 
with his “ co-efficient of friction," and I felt certain 
he was making a mental note of it for some such 
purpose. 

He surprised me, too, for although he had mani¬ 
festly made a mess of things in the parish his manner 


CAPTAIN WELFARE’S PROMISE 243 

had an assurance, and even an assumption, of 
superiority, very different from the timidity I 
remembered at first. No doubt that had been 
merely the result of the shyness which mere 
unfamiliarity produces in weak natures. It had 
worn off now, and I liked him even less. 

“ It seems to me,” I said, rather brutally, “ that 
the friction is mainly about who should be secretaries 
and so on.” 

“ That is merely a superficial manifestation of a 
deeper spiritual unrest, I hope of spiritual hunger,” 
he assured me. “ It will be quite evanescent.” 

“ It didn’t strike me that there was anything 
evanescent about Mary Gregson’s temper at not 
being asked to be secretary before Lizzie Reynolds.” 

“ Of course,” said Snape with dignity, “ if 
we are to be turned aside by the vulgar jealousies 
of uneducated young women, we cannot make 
much progress on the road to spirituality, can 
we ? ” 

I felt it was impossible to argue with the man, 
so I propounded my theory of multiplying guilds 
and brigades and things. But he did not approve 
of this either. 

” No,” he said. “ That would be to jump 
from one extreme to another, which is always a 
mistake. Just as in the natural world, so in the 
spiritual, there must be a gradual organic evolution. 
We must be content with small beginnings.” 

“ The thin end of the wedge, eh ? ” 

“ Oh no, pardon me ! ” 

I chuckled. I had deliberately tried that wretched 
old phrase on him. And the hackneyed metaphor 
is so invariably used of something undesirable 
that I was certain he would shy away from the 
sound of it. 


244 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

" Well, I suppose you told the bishop I had 
given you a free hand in the parish ? ” I enquired. 

“ Yes, I had already written to him to that 
effect very shortly after you left ! I regret to 
say that his Lordship seemed to advocate what I 
can only describe as a policy of laissez-faire. That 
is why I venture to say that his Lordship did not 
strike me as very helpful.” 

If I had had the bishop’s letter when he again 
used that word I am afraid I should have thrown 
something at him. 

“ And what about stopping on here for a bit ? ” 

” Ah, yes. I fear that is now out of the question.” 

I manfully repressed a great sigh of relief. 

“ The tact is, his Lordship wants me very soon 
elsewhere. In any case, I hope I have started the 
engine, and it may be that you will find it easier 
to keep it going in my absence. I understand 
there will be some ten days’ interval before I am 
required, but I should not feel justified in remaining 
here. I suppose I must return to lodghgs Dr the 
time being.” 

There was a wistfulness about him as he said this 
that made me feel mean in my gladness at getting 
rid of him. 

In spite of himself I feared that the comparative 
comfort of my house had softened his ascetic 
fibre a little. There was something fine, too, about 
his immediate acquiescence in the idea of leaving 
it as soon as he was no longer on duty. 

“ Why not stop on as my guest until you are 
wanted ? ” 

The invitation was an impulse I could not resist. 

“ You are very kind, Mr. Davoren. I have not 
been used to very much kindness in my life,” he 
said simply, “ and I thank you very warmly. 


CAPTAIN WELFARE’S PROMISE 245 

To be frank, what you suggest would be a very 
real help and convenience to me just at present. 
But I hardly like to accept-” 

“ I consider it settled,” I said. 

He went to his room early, and I was glad I 
had asked him, for I felt my soul was in need of 
some penance. Afterwards I was especially glad 
that I had done it before I got the bishop’s letter. 

I was at last alone in my familiar study with 
silence, with my shaded lamp, with the June 
twilight on the garden outside. I sat down, hoping 
to find the perspective I had lost. But instead 
I found only a new foreground; a foreground 
of Snape and his absurdities, of the passions and 
excitements of my parishioners. It was only as 
in a mirage that I caught disconnected visions : 
of the* Astarte with her sails golden in the light 
of the setting sun, slowly pushing her way along 
with her cargo of iniquity ; of the desert with its 
hot bright sand and lilac shadows ; of the rushing 
terror of the sand-storm, and the pale back of a 
camel moving ahead of me in the dark ; of the 
stupendous masonry of the half-buried temple of 
a dead ^worship ; of a sherbet-seller in the native 
quarter of the Eastern city, with his flaming red 
tunic, his clashing brass trays, his huge water 
vessel and great lump of melting ice ; of tall yellow 
buildings draped with purple flowers ; of a great 
pile of packing-cases, a rope and pulley, and a 
fearful trepidation in a man’s soul; of Welfare 
sailing out into the night with the crew w’ho would 
certainly murder him if they guessed his secret. 
Through every scene in the panorama stole the 
sinister face and lithe figure of Jakoub. But 
amid all this, myself I could not see. 



CHAPTER XIV 


BLACKMAIL 

M Y natural indolence prompted me to 
settle down again in my old familiar 
rut while I awaited the bishop’s visit 
and Edmund’s return. 

Snape’s presence in my home, however, effectually 
prevented this programme. He was a discomfort 
to me, constant and irritating as a piece of grit 
in one’s eye, with the added annoyance that he 
was ostentatiously trying to be inoffensive. 

When I went to my study to cope with arrears 
of correspondence he would follow me and sit 
in a wicker chair which he creaked until he drove 
me forth to my pigeon-loft. If he sat by the 
fire-place he kicked the fire-irons rhythmically, 
filling me with the dread of homicidal mania. 

He could not read a book without saying “ Just 
listen to this ” and reading a passage aloud, when 
he would expect some intelligent comment from 
my exasperated mind. During meals he expounded 
the duties of a parish priest as conceived by him¬ 
self, and twenty times a day he thanked me abjectly 
for my hospitality. 

But I endured all patiently, for I felt that need 
of penance which comes to all of us at times, and 
felt that Snape had been sent to me to chasten 
me. 


246 


BLACKMAIL 


247 

His chastening bore fruit too, for it stimulated 
me to perform one more task that my indolence 
would have postponed. 

I shrank from returning to the shop in Brighton, 
though it was a duty I had undertaken. The 
shop was part of the iniquity, and the prospect 
of re-opening all that business struck a chill through 
me, like getting into a wet shirt. 

To discuss the matter with Schultz was particu¬ 
larly revolting, for he alone, of them all, struck 
me as being completely abject and unclean. Jakoub 
was at least a courageous scoundrel and had a 
dignity of his own; even Van Ermengen was 
probably in some respects a man. But there 
was that about Schultz which made me think 
of him as an insult to humanity. 

Nevertheless, stimulated by the presence of 
Snape in my house, I drove over to Brighton 
and visited the shop. 

Schultz received me with an obsequious reproach¬ 
fulness in his manner that covered a hint of possible 
impertinence. His smooth, pink, waxen face, his 
curls of the barber’s block, and teeth of the dental 
showcase, all brought back upon me the feeling 
of nausea I had experienced on first seeing him. 

But now there was added to this a nausea of 
the soul, for I knew that he regarded me, quite 
naturally, as a party to his foul intrigues. 

Except for these sensations I was indifferent 
to him, for I knew that Welfare had power to 
keep him harmless. 

I waited while he served, and doubtless swindled, 
a stray customer, and then went with him into 
the little office behind the shop. 

“ I have been most uneasy,” he complained, 
“ at hearing nothing, at receiving no more stock. 


248 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

For weeks I have expected the consignment from 
Guernsey, and I have had difficulty in explaining 
to our London agents. See, here are their letters.” 

He took a file from a shelf and pointed to letters 
from the people who I suppose were to have been 
the receivers of our contraband. 

I closed the file, and pushed it back to him. 
“ But they are indignant,” he continued; “ they 
have received only the first consignment; our 
contract with them-” 

“ I suppose,” I said, interrupting him, “ they 
can proceed against us for breach of contract, 
if they like ? ” 

“ Proceed against us ? ” he gasped ; “at law ? 
Holy Virgin ! Do you not know-? ” 

“Never mind what I know,” I replied; “at 
least, I know’ a good many things now which I 
did not know wffien we first met, Mr. Schultz. 
There will not be any more consignments for 
your ‘ London agents/ That business is at an 
end.” 

Schultz flashed at me a venomous look of sur¬ 
prise, distrust and fear. His pink complexion 
faded to an unwholesome yellow’, as he sat dowm 
hurriedly on the office chair, from which he con¬ 
tinued to glare up at me. 

“ At an end ? ” he queried. “ But I do not 
understand ! ” 

“ I do not know how to make it any clearer,” 
I told him. “ Perhaps you will understand me 
if I say there is to be no more smuggling ! ” 

“ But I did not come here to sell w r hat you 
call knick-knacks ! Anybody can do that. There 
is nothing A it.” 

“ No ? Weil, the business will be closed down 
as soon as you have sold up the present stock. 




BLACKMAIL 


249 

If it’s worth while you had better have an auction/' 

“But why is this?" he persisted; “I lose 
my job. Why am I dismissed ? " 

“ Captain Welfare will explain all that when 
he returns—if you care to wait for him." 

I added the last words in what I intended to 
be a very meaning tone. They had the desired 
effect, for any tendency to show fight immediately 
faded out of Mr. Schultz's countenance. 

I then examined his bank-book and some other 
records which I found in this case quite intelligible. 

Rather to my surprise Schultz appeared to 
have conducted the business quite honestly. He 
had credited himself with nothing but his wages, 
and not only was my deposit in the bank intact, 
but the bric-a-brac had been disposed of at a 
profit that seemed to me enormous. As the stock 
was so low I decided to close the shop at once 
and wait for Captain Welfare to dispose of what 
was left. 

I felt justified in giving Schultz a little money 
over and above what was due to him. Then I 
watched him draw down the shutters and lock 
the door. I took the keys from him and he dis¬ 
appeared with the confidence of those who are 
always sure of finding some profitable form of 
minor dishonesty. 

I went home to a hot bath with ammonia in 
it, for this renewed contact with Welfare’s business 
methods had given me a desire for physical cleansing. 

In a few days my penance ended, as Snape 
departed punctually, smothering me once more 
with his “ earnest and sincere gratitude," and 
leaving in my hands his draft for the organisation 
of a unit of the Church Lads’ Brigade. 

And then at last the bishop paid his promised 


250 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

visit, and I looked forward to cleansing my soul 
by confession, even as I had cleansed my body 
after the interview with Schultz. When I met 
him at the station and grasped his hand again 
I felt as Pilgrim must have felt when Mr. Great- 
heart joined him. I was sure that the lions of 
fear and mistrust would be cleared from my path. 

“ It is a long story,” I said, in answer to his 
enquiry about my adventures as we drove home. 

“ Then keep it until the afternoon, when we 
can have it in volume form. I dislike instalments.” 

“ Very well. But you look rather haggard 
yourself. Have you been sleeping badly again ? ” 
I enquired anxiously. 

“Not worse than usual, thanks. I am all 
right myself, but anxious, Davoren, as we all 
must be. Europe seems to be steadily and deli¬ 
berately making for war and catastrophe, and 
at home we have want of unity, lack of discipline, 
loss of faith. For us Churchmen espi ually, the 
time is perplexing and distressing.” 

“ I know,” I said with the old feeling of humi¬ 
liation at my own helplessness, my own failure 
to take my share in the battles of the world and 
of the Church, my own desire to settle back into 
my little rut in life. 

“ I wish I could help,” I sighed. 

“You do,” said the bishop; “ you help me 

more than you know.” 

There was a long silence, full of gratitude on 
my part, as I got my horse into his stride along 
a level stretch of the coast-road, while the bishop 
leaned back in his seat, enjoying the pleasing 
swing of the dog-cart, so much dearer to both 
of us than the fussy impetuosity of a motor-car, 
the true symbol of this age of blatant hurry. 


BLACKMAIL 


251 

“ By the way/’ Parminter asked suddenly, 
“ where is your brother now ? 11 

“ Somewhere between here and Marseilles, unless 
the Astarte has not reached port yet. I have 
not heard/ 1 

There was a constraint in my voice which the 
bishop must have noticed. 

“ But you expect him back ? 11 he asked. 

“ Oh yes. He will come here as soon as he 
can/ 1 

“ Well, you must let me know when he arrives. 
I have seen my friend at the Colonial Office, and 
I think your brother is the very man they are 
looking for/ 1 

I felt my face burning as I replied, “You must 
hear all my story first, before you recommend 
him for any post/ 1 

The bishop looked round sharply into my face. 

“ Oh ? Very well, 11 he said, as we drove up 
to the door and the conversation was cut short 
in the bustle of arrival. 

It was not until we went for our favourite ramble 
over the Downs that I got my story told. 

Since our last walk there the brilliance of the 
first new blades of grass had faded, and on the 
higher slopes there were already some of the browns 
and yellows of summer, but all the flowers of the 
field smiled up at us in the heyday of their repro¬ 
duction, and there were sombre patches of the 
chocolate-coloured clover that grows there. 

I started my narrative and gave the bare facts 
of the case right through to the end, the bishop 
asking a question now and then which helped to 
set things straight in his mind and my own. 

Never in trying to think it over had I been 
able to go straight through like this. My mind 


252 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

had always been diverted into side issues of what 
might have been, what I ought to have done or 
said. But now as I told the story to my friend 
I began to see it straight myself, to appreciate 
the degrees of blame in all concerned. 

Before I had come to the end of the story we 
were again sitting together looking down on the 
cool, still mystery of the dew-pond, and the foot¬ 
prints of the last generation of sheep around it. 

When I had finished, the bishop said, " What 
a blessing it is you went ! " 

“ I am very glad you think that/’ I said with 
a deep feeling of thankfulness for his words. “ I 
feel that I was such an innocent ass." 

“ There are some worse things than innocence," 
he replied, then added very gravely, laying his 
hand on my knee, " My friend, I think that, as 
you would say yourself, you behaved very well." 

I have never received any praise, even in boyhood 
days when one longs for praise, that so filled my 
heart with gratitude as this. 

" I am very proud that you can approve," I 
said, and we left that subject by mutual consent. 

We both sat thinking for a time, and then he 
said, " I can see no good reason why your brother 
should not serve the Government, if-" 

" Thank God for that," I broke in. 

"Yes, I think we ought to thank God for it. 
At the same time, badly as he has acted—he has 
acted badly you know ? " 

" I know it. So does he." 

" I am glad he feels it. I was going to say," 
he continued, " that we must not take it all too 
seriously. I think his is simply a case of delayed 
development." 

" I don’t know that I quite understand." 



BLACKMAIL 


253 

“ Some of the best of men take the longest 
time to grow up, like trees. There are oaks and 
cabbages among men—a terrible lot of cabbages ! 
So a prolonged boyhood may be a good thing. 
It is far too short in most of us. But of course 
there are limits. Your brother has been so thwarted, 
punished no doubt in lots of ways that we know 
nothing of, for many things he perhaps knew 
were not his fault. I see in him an embittered 
schoolboy with the intellect and appetites of 
a man. He will know dirt now when he sees 
it afar off, better than his contemporaries, and 
he will hate it even more.” 

“ But supposing, as I greatly fear, that there 
is more trouble, supposing this Jakoub is arrested 
and denounces him ? ” 

" Then we must take Mr. Bumble’s view of 
the law, and do all in our power to circumvent 
it.” 

“ You would agree to that ? ” 

“ Of course I should. Any reasoning being 
must. Law is necessary, and in England it is 
generally just. But special circumstances may 
arise in which Law is inapplicable, in which it 
becomes an organised stupidity. Men of good 
conscience must have courage to recognise such 
circumstances and act righteously, whether they 
act legally or not. So this existing reprehensible 
person must disappear, and your brother must 
reappear.” 

“ I see that,” I assented. “ By the way, what 
about Welfare ? ” 

“ I don't know yet. He is a much more difficult 
problem in psychology. But that was a splendid 
thing he did, going off alone in the felucca. You 
think he would have sunk it if necessary ? ” 


254 A .MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

“Em certain of it. I trust him—now.” 

“ Well, I think he has redeemed himself. Yes, 
we must help him too. I should like to see your 
brother again. Do you think he would dislike 
meeting me under the circumstances ? ” 

“ On the contrary, I know he desires, just as 
I did myself, to see you and tell you everything. 
In fact to confess, and, if it may be, to receive 
absolution/’ 

“It is a natural and proper human need, that 
desire to be assured of ‘ the absolution and remis¬ 
sion of sins/ But after all you are as well qualified 
as I am to pronounce it.” 

“ Edmund will want to hear it from you,” I 
insisted. 

“ Well, I shall be glad to see him. You must 
let me know when he comes. I should like a long 
evening with both of you. If Welfare can be 
there as well, so much the better. I shall want 
to explain to your brother about this Colonial 
Office job, which I hope he will accept. They 
want a man to organise and manage a small steam¬ 
boat service on Lake Nyassa. It is a good climate, 
and much of the work will be congenial to your 
brother. They have at present nobody else especi¬ 
ally qualified. I think if your brother asked 
for Welfare as an assistant there would be no 
difficulty about arranging that, and he would be 
useful on the commercial side.” 

“ My dear bishop,” I exclaimed, “ it is ideal I 
How can I or Edmund thank you ? ” 

“You know there is no need for that. It is 
an interesting country, and the pay is fair. It 
is a land full of opportunities for such a man as 
your brother. Above all he will be doing some 
real useful work for his country.” 


BLACKMAIL 


255 

“ And/* I added, “ he will be out of Jakoub’s 
clutches once he gets there.” 

“ Yes, Jakoub will only be able to threaten 
you. And as long as he is at liberty I cannot 
see that you need fear him.” 

By the time we reached home we had said all 
we needed to say about these matters. The bishop 
is not one of those who repeat the same thing 
over and over again, and call it “ discussing the 
situation.” 

So we were able to spend a happy evening together 
in the sixth century, forgetting even the brief 
pyrexia of modern Europe. 

It was with a clear feeling of well-being that 
I came down the next morning to meet the summer 
sun that shone in through the open window with 
a scent of wallflowers which mingled agreeably 
with the faint fragrances proper to an English 
breakfast. 

It was above all pleasant to see the bishop 
coming up the red garden path, bare-headed, a 
towel round his neck, fresh from the morning 
swim he loved, still lithe and athletic-looking 
as in his undergraduate days. 

While I waited for him to complete his toilet 
I took up the pile of letters lying on the sideboard, 
and saw with a painful start one in an unknown 
handwriting with an Egyptian stamp on it. 

I knew instinctively that this must contain 
a declaration of war, yet Jakoub could not write 
English. Nervously speculating, I had guessed 
the authorship before I could bring myself to 
open the envelope and read as follows :— 

“ Reverend Sir,— 

“I have been surprised that I have not yet 


256 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

heard from you and am now bound to address 
you as to my claims against you. 

“ In my hotel while you were here you took 
possession of property belonging to myself and 
others, and while under your charge against my 
protests that property has disappeared. The cash 
value of my share in that property is £750 and 
my prospective profit in its sale was £1,250. This 
sum of £2,000 in all I now demand from you with 
£500 for other expenses and loss to which I am 
put and for my refraining to proceed against you 
at law as I might well. I shall look for your money 
in one month. If not, my agent, whom you know 
as Jakoub, will be in England and will call upon 
you to arrange for my share as well as his own. 
This will add expense and he informs me he will 
accept £500 his share, without charge for his ser¬ 
vices rendered to you. Your cheque for £3,000 
will oblige and you will then receive discharge 
in full from both of us. 

“ Failing this, I must take action as above 
and my lawyer will advise as to proceeding in 
Egyptian or English Court. 

“ Your obedient Servant, 

“ E. Van Ermengen.” 

I felt as if thrust back again into a world of 
mean anxieties and sordid men. My mood of 
content was shattered as a mirror by a stone, 
and all the pleasantness of my surroundings was 
gone as if it had been no more than the reflection 
in the mirror. 

If three thousand pounds would end the matter, 
how gladly would I have made that sacrifice! 
But I knew that money would not end it. What 
had been done must still be expiated in other 


BLACKMAIL 


257 

coin. I must still oppose courage to baseness. 
For me there could as yet be no settling back 
into my comfortable, groove, for courage was not 
habitual to me; it had to be secreted, as it were, 
by a constant effort of will. 

I was wondering if that were true of all courage 
when the bishop came in. 

“ I am afraid you have had bad news/’ he said, 
looking at me with concern as he took his place 
at the breakfast table; “ nothing wrong with your 
brother, I hope ? ” 

“ I had not meant to tell you until after break¬ 
fast,” I answered, sighing; “no, Edmund is all 
right still, as far as I know.” 

“ Tell me the worst, then. No news should 
spoil a man’s appetite when he has had a morning 
swim. In fact that is the time of all others to 
face anything that threatens.” 

I read Van Ermengen’s letter to him. When 
I had finished he read and re-read it to himself 
as he finished a hearty breakfast. 

"I do not regard this as bad news at all,” he 
said at last, “ but may I have a final cup of coffee 
outside ? It is too lovely a morning to waste 
indoors.” 

We went out through the French window to 
a seat by the lime tree, which was already humming 
like an seolian harp with the wings of insects. 

Bates followed with the coffee and cigars, but 
the bishop would not smoke. 

“ One can smoke all the year,” he said, “ but 
an atmosphere of wallflowers can only be enjoyed 
on such a day as this.” 

I thought of the strange contrast between my 
Sussex garden with its peace and tempered sun¬ 
shine, and the fierce glare with which the same 

R 


258 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

sun was even now smiting the streets of Alexandria. 
It seemed scarcely credible that a threat from 
evil men out there could penetrate even into my 
secluded vicarage. But there was the letter, and 
as I watched the bishop studying it again it occurred 
to me that the fighting spirit in him was glad 
at the prospect of taking part in a struggle against- 
the manoeuvres of the wicked. 

“No,” he said, laying down the letter on the 
seat between us, “ on the whole it is good news. 
You must have known that some such attempt 
was inevitable. The man believes, of course, that 
you have somehow disposed of the drug for your 
own profit. To him that would doubtless seem 
a perfectly natural move on your part. He simply 
looks upon you as a hypocrite by whom he has 
been outwitted. Of course such a man will not 
easily be reconciled to the loss of his share of the 
plunder. It should be a relief to you to know 
how he means to open his game.” 

“ I suppose it should,” I admitted, “ but the 
prospect of seeing Jakoub here is not agreeable.” 

“ Of course it is disagreeable. But on the 
other hand, it is a great gain that Jakoub is at 
liberty. No doubt they are sending him here 
because they feel he is no longer safe in Egypt. 
Van Ermengen and his colleagues are as much 
interested in his remaining free as we are. No 
doubt Jakoub can convict them all and destroy 
the conspiracy should he be taken himself. By 
the way, do they suspect your relationship to 
your brother ? ” 

“ I don't think so. They have no reason to 
suppose we are more than partners, for they have 
never heard his real name.” 

“ Then if we can once convince them that the 


BLACKMAIL 259 

hashish has been destroyed they will realise they 
have no real weapon against you.” 

“ I wish,” I said weakly, “ that I could pay 
them off and be done with it.” 

” That would be absolutely fatal, and in my 
view immoral,” said the bishop sternly. “ Besides, 
you never would be done with it then.” 

“ Should I reply to this letter ? ” I asked. 

“ I think not. At present I think not. But 
it reouires consideration. It is better that Jakoub 
should come here. We must keep him under 
observation and safe from arrest. I hope your 
brother and Welfare will return first, for they 
will know better than we can how to handle the 
ruffian. It might even be well, if they go to 
Nyasaland, that they should take him with them. 
They could offer him safety at least, and he might 
look upon it as a new field for villainy.” 

“ He would certainly make it that,” I said. 

" Yes. But no doubt Satan will see that he 
is employed wherever he may be. I have little 
hope of our power to save such as he is. There 
is my car,” he continued as the sound of a motor- 
horn came to us from the road; “ my chaplain 
is there to see I keep to his time-table. Well, 
I am sorry my little time here is up. Keep me 
fully informed of anything that may happen, 
and don't worry if I cannot answer your letters.” 

We went back sadly through the house, and 
as he was stepping into the car he paused and 
said: “ Do not write to Van Ermengen. It would 
be a mistake. You can only wait now for things 
to happen. Believe me, I know how difficult that is.” 

With a heavy heart I watched his car drive 
off, for I knew that anxiety and perplexity would 
return to dwell with me in his absence. 


CHAPTER XV 


AWAITING DEVELOPMENTS 

T HE period of waiting for news of Edmund, 
of what was really the opening of a 
campaign against Jakoub, and the per¬ 
sons whom he so largely controlled, was necessarily 
for me a very irksome time. 

I tried to thrust all these affairs into the back¬ 
ground of my thoughts and to wait on events in 
a spirit of philosophic curiosity. In this laudable 
attempt I was much helped by my necessary 
preoccupation with parochial affairs. 

I had left a peaceful community of Christian 
souls, most of them doing their duty in life more 
or less successfully, a few of them refusing or shirking 
their responsibilities, and some behaving really badly. 

I returned to find a population of whom practi¬ 
cally all were members of committees, all competing 
for chairmanships and secretaryships, and nearly 
all imbued with an acrid jealousy of each other. 
Bee-hives and even gardens were being neglected 
in this new enthusiasm for the redemption of 
everybody by the formation of committees, and 
envy, hatred, malice and all uncharitableness 
stalked the parish in the wake of poor Snape, 
just as though he had been some emissary of that 
Potentate of the Manicheans to whose destruction 
he had devoted his harmless, ineffectual life. Even 


AWAITING DEVELOPMENTS 


261 


in the public-house I found that the old academic 
discussions about prices in the local markets, and 
their influence on Imperial stability, had given 
place to acrimonious mangles as to the personality 
and conduct of competitors for prominence in 
the new hierarchy of committees. 

The publican said to me, “ I'm selling less beer 
and more whisky, sir. Tm making a bit extra, 
but I don’t like it. They'd be better on beer 
and the old-fashioned doctrines, and we d all be 
more comfortable. Whisky makes them quarrel¬ 
some, and the new teetotallers as comes in for 
ginger is mostly rancorou-s, sir. They says things 
as I won’t have said to me or my missus in my 
bar. And your reverence knows how my house 
has been conducted ever since you was here.” 

I departed, leaving my verbal certificate as 
to his conduct, and pondering over his word 
“ rancorous.” It was the just word. It described 
exactly the new spirit that I had to combat in 
my parish. It appeared to me that Christianity 
had had a definite set-back in the village. 

With a confidence newly born in me as the 
result of my recent victories over Jakoub and 
Van Ermengen, I asserted myself for the first 
time as vicar of the parish. 

As though they had been wasps’ nests, I stamped 
out every committee that had been inaugurated 
by Snape, and so restored to my parishioners 
their natural good feeling and loving-kindness. 

These preoccupations helped to divert my mind 
from the more pressing anxieties of life while I 
waited for news of Edmund, and it was not until 
I had been home a month that I received a wire 
from London telling me to expect him on the 
same afternoon. 


262 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

My first impulse when he arrived was to tell 
him of the bishop’s offer and of his new prospects, 
but I felt I ought perhaps to leave that to the bishop 
himself. 

In any case the announcement would perforce 
have been postponed, for Edmund arrived full 
of anxieties. He had an alert and vigorous air 
which I was glad to see, but it was clear that he 
was harassed and anxious. He cut my greetings 
rather short and asked me to come straight into 
the study. 

“ I must tell you the w r orst of it at once,” he 
said, as he closed the door; “ v an Ermengen and 
Jakoub are on the move already.” 

“ I know that,” I told him; “I have had a 
letter from Van Ermengen.” 

“You have ? Confound his cheek 1 What does 
he say ? ” 

I took Van Ermengen’s letter from my desk 
and handed it to him. He read it carefully, standing 
on the hearthrug with one arm resting on the 
mantelpiece. 

Watching him from my desk chair I noticed 
his face flush and the frown deepen on his fore¬ 
head. He looked older than I had ever seen 
him look before, and it struck me that Edmund 
might be a very dangerous man to an enemy. 

“ Yes,” he said as he replaced the letter in the 
envelope; “ of course you have sent him no money ? ” 

“ Of course not. I have not answered the 
letter at all.” 

“ Good. Well, it is not an idle threat about 
Jakoub. Jakoub is on board a tramp which is 
due in Southampton to-morrow. If he is not 
arrested he will make straight for here. Welfare 
has gone to Southampton to see what happens 


AWAITING DEVELOPMENTS 263 

and to keep an eye on him. If necessary, he will 
follow him here. Then we shall have to decide 
on the best means of keeping him quiet.” 

“ I do hope he won’t be arrested,” I said; “ why 
do you think he may be ? Tell me how you know 
all this.” 

“ Welfare heard it all from Van Ermengen. 
But I had better tell you the story right through. 
Have you got any of those cigars left ? ” 

I produced the cigar box, and as Edmund settled 
himself to smoke comfortably in an arm-chair, 
I could see that he was tired and short of sleep. 

“ Welfare and I only met in London yesterday,” 
he said. “ We met by appointment, after parting 
at Marseilles. We thought we could cover up 
our tracks better by taking different ways. I 
think you may take it that Montgomery and Ring- 
rose have finally disappeared from the knowledge 
of mankind. We have evaporated, volatilised in 
fact. I ought first to tell you that we had to 
sell the poor little Astarte all standing for about 
a third of her value. It was a nasty jar parting 
with her to a Dago Jew anyhow, but of course 
it was a forced sale. There was no time to bargain. 
Apart from the loss, we both felt that our accepting 
such a price looked fishy. But that could not 
be helped, and in any case, as Montgomery and 
Ringrose, our number was up ! We had to get 
rid of her quickly and clear out.” 

“ Of course,” 1 said as he paused in his narrative, 
” you know how sorry I am to have parted with the 
Astarte . The price cannot be helped. The loss does 
not matter as long as you do get clear in the end.” 

“ Well, I hope to,” Edmund replied dubiously, 
eyeing his cigar. “ It all depends on Jakoub. 
As long as he is free we can manage him. Once 


264 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

arrested he would of course try to drag us all in. 
He would do that out of spite, anyhow ; besides, 
it would be his last card, his only hope of pardon. 
And we are not sure how much he knows about 
us. But he knows you in your proper name.” 

I felt the perspiration break out all over my 
body as I thus saw clearly for the first time all 
the possible consequences of Jakoub’s arrest, of 
his turning informer. I knew for the first time 
what it meant to have one’s “ heart sink,” for 
it seemed as though my heart actually became 
a weight in my body of which I was conscious, 
and a horrible sensation of weakness spread down¬ 
wards to my thighs. For a few moments I am 
sure I could not have risen ‘from my chair as I 
realised that everything that social man holds 
dear was, in my case, in the keeping of a rascally 
Arab whom the Law was seeking to attack. And 
the Law was on the side for which I had sacrificed' 
so much ! I was as anxious as the Law to stop 
the atrocious conspiracy that was poisoning a 
race. And I had actually achieved my object 
-—illegally. The bishop’s phrase recurred to me. 
“ Surely,” I thought, “ here was a case where 
the Law became an organised stupidity.” 

“ I hate upsetting you like this,” Edmund 
continued, “ but you simply must be told.” 

“Of course,” I said; “go on.” 

“ Fortunately,” he continued, “ you have done 
nothing wrong. You will have no difficulty in 
clearing yourself. But obviously Welfare and I 
would become your essential witnesses, and nothing 
you could say, nothing in heaven or earth, would 
stop us giving evidence on your behalf. But 
I know, I understand. Everything you have 
worked so hard for, would be, well—simply done 


AWAITING DEVELOPMENTS 265 

in ! You wanted to save me, to save the family 
name. You cannot save me if Jakoub is a pri¬ 
soner, but surely you see, every straight man 
must see, that my disgrace, as far as the family 
honour goes, would be far more than balanced 
by your—your infernal decency.” 

I found myself out of my chair and tottering 
foolishly about the room. 

“ It can’t happen! It must not happen! ” 
I exclaimed. 

“ It may not happen,” Edmund said, " but 
you and I must be ready for it if it does happen.” 

“Tell me,” I said, calming myself with an 
effort, “ tell me just what the risks are. How 
did Welfare hear ? What did Van Ermengen say ? ” 

“ Welfare picked up his letters in London 
yesterday, and among them were two from Van 
Ermengen. You probably don’t realise that Van 
Ermengen is convinced that you have collared 
the whole cargo in order to sell it yourself. What 
puzzles him is that there should have been anyone 
in the trade unknown to himself ; especially anyone 
capable of controlling Welfare. He is not sure 
now where Welfare stands in the matter, and 
his first letter simply appeals to him to remain 
* loyal' and assist in squeezing you. The second 
letter was to say that he had smuggled Jakoub 
on to this tramp as a stoker, partly to get him 
out of Egypt where he is no longer safe, and partly 
to help in blackmailing you. His fear is that 
the police may trace Jakoub to the ship and get 
him arrested at this end. You see Van Ermengen 
is naturally as anxious as we are to keep Jakoub 
out of the grip of the law. Van Ermengen is 
more hopelessly compromised than any of us, 
and he knows Jakoub.” 


266 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

Edmund's apparent imperturbability, his calm 
exposition of the situation, did a great deal to 
restore my nervous equilibrium. I sat down 
opposite to him, and for a time there was silence 
as we both thought out the probabilities. Edmund’s 
meditations had evidently reached the same point 
as mine when he broke the silence. 

“ It is about five to one," he remarked, “ that 
the police here will have been warned and will 
try to arrest him." 

“Do you think there is any chance of their 
failing ? " I asked. 

“ Lots of chances. Jakoub has been warned 
himself, and he is not an easy man to catch. He 
has spent most of his life dodging the police or 
somebody else. He will probably get away from 
them at Southampton, but there, in a strange 
country, he will be handicapped. Welfare may 
be able to help him. If he makes his way here 
we shall have to hide him—that is, if you are 
willing to." 

This proposition startled me. It seemed some¬ 
how quite a different thing for me at home, as 
vicar of the parish and a county magistrate, to 
join in evading English law and English policemen, 
and for that other self of mine who had wandered 
across the high seas in a little sailing boat, and 
across the desert on the back of a camel, to take 
part in outwitting Egyptian laws and Egyptian 
police. 

Edmund noticed my hes : tation and took me 
up in the old quick way of his boyish sensitiveness. 

“ Of course I know it would be a horrible risk 
for you in your position. Personally I advise 
you to have nothing to do with the business." 

He spoke in the hurt tone I remembered so 


AWAITING DEVELOPMENTS 267 

well in old days when I had refused to countenance 
some wild cat scheme of his. 

“ I am not calculating the risk,” I said; “ I 
see and understand it clearly, and for myself I 
do not fear the consequences. To get us all out 
of this wretched tangle I am willing to do anything 
that is just and honourable. Would this be just 
and honourable ? For myself I think it would; 
but then am I a competent judge of my own actions 
in a thing like this! I don’t know. I don’t 
know ! ” 

I was thinking aloud, forgetful of Edmund. 

“ My dear old man! ” he cried, getting up 
and taking my hands, “ you are straining your 
conscience until you’ll dislocate the poor old thing, 
just for my sake. Don’t do it. I cannot stand 
it! Welfare and I can evaporate again. The 
world is round and one can go round it. Hand 
over Jakoub and let him get what he deserves. 
I shall be glad of it, and I will let you do anything 
else you like for my sake. And we shall find ways 
of seeing each other again. But don’t do this. 
I hate myself for suggesting it. I simply had 
not thought.” 

“ Thanks, dear lad,” I said, returning the pressure 
of his hands, “ but don’t let us exaggerate things. 
I repeat that I think your proposal is the right 
one, right from every point of view. Even Jakoub 
was a straight man once, until he was defrauded 
by stupid official people. Why should he not 
have a chance to become straight again ? I was 
thinking he might be worked into the bishop’s 
scheme for you and Welfare. By the way, you 
have heard nothing about that. But I do feel 
that we both need guidance. I have sent word 
to the bishop that you are here. I promised him 


268 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

I 

to do that, and I know he will join us as soon as 
he can.” 

“ The bishop coming here ? ” Edmund asked, 
shying from the idea like a nervous horse. “ But 
must he be told all this ? ” 

“ He has been told everything. That is, every¬ 
thing I knew up to now.” 

“ And he would still meet me? ” 

“ He is most anxious to meet you, and Welfare 
too for that matter. He has a project that he 
will tell you of himself. He knows that Jakoub 
is our one danger.” 

“ But surely,” Edmund exclaimed, " he would 
not approve of our sheltering Jakoub ? ” 

“ If he does not approve, I cannot consent 
to do it. I don’t know, but I think he would 
approve. I am sure he would if he had any 
reason to think that so we might save Jakoub. 

* Save ’ him I mean in the only true sense, which 
is to make a true man of him again.” 

“ Nothing would make a true man of Jakoub,” 
said Edmund. 

“ To refuse to believe that is the real meaning 
of what we call Faith,” I answered. 

There was another long pause between us, and 
then Edmund said very thoughtfully, “ I cannot 
understand this bishop of yours.” 

“ It is not to be expected that you should,” 
I assured him. “ I doubt if anyone understands 
him. Probably I understand more of him than 
anyone else, and I know only a little of him. But 
I know this, that he sees men as they are, hot 
as ‘ trees walking.' He is not half-blinded like 
so many of us parsons. He knows the residuum 
of decency there is in all human nature, and how 
it is buried under the silt of mere majorities. But 


AWAITING DEVELOPMENTS 269 

never mind all that. I hope he will be here to¬ 
morrow, and he will tell us what to do/’ 

“ I am in your hands, of course, and therefore 
it seems in the bishop’s. I shall certainly do 
what you and he think right, only first I must 
tell him everything myself.” 

“ That is exactly what I want you to do.” 

I had greatly dreaded the possibility of Edmund’s 
refusing to meet the bishop at all. I knew how 
intensely his pride must be wounded by the prospect 
of such a meeting, of such a confession. But 
I knew, too, how necessary it was for the healing 
of his soul. I regarded it as his penance, and 
for him the way of salvation. I was accordingly 
careful to conceal my knowledge of his feelings 
and to treat the bishop’s visit as a matter of course. 

“ WHh all your news,” I said, “ I have had 
no time to tell you that the bishop is coming 
mainly to offer you an appointment abroad under 
the Colonial Office. He will tell you the details, 
but I think it is one you would like.” 

“ Like it! ” he exclaimed, "lam sure I should 
* like it/ I should like it better than going to 
prison as the accomplice of a set of particularly 
unclean Dagoes. But don’t you see I am much 
more in the hands of Jakoub than of the bishop ? 
I can decide nothing until Jakoub is muzzled 
or—dead. And if Jakoub is taken—well, the 
matter is settled as far as I am concerned.” 

I saw it very clearly, and there was nothing 
to reply. 

We spent the evening under a cloud of anxiety 
trying to calculate the chances of Jakoub’s evading 
the police at Southampton and the probable time 
of his arrival at the vicarage if he succeeded. 


CHAPTER XVI 


IN WHICH CAPTAIN WELFARE MAKES A SIGNAL 

B OTH Edmund’s temper and my own were 
naturally worn a little thin under the 
tension of this uncertainty, and the friction 
of our futile calculations of chances. But neither 
of us could leave the subject alone or settle our 
minds to anything else. Each of us made guesses 
which to the other seemed more and more foolish 
and irritating. Edmund set himself to prove the 
inevitability of disaster, really, I suppose, in order 
to elicit m}7 arguments in favour of optimism, 
which nevertheless he took a morbid pleasure in 
demolishing. 

.The bishop’s arrival on the following afternoon 
was only just in time to dispel something like a 
positive mutual dislike which ; was being engen¬ 
dered between us by the strain. 

But, as I knew he would, the bishop brought 
with him an atmosphere of sanity and hopefulness. 
He did not attempt to minimise the gravity of our 
position when it was explained to him, but helped 
us to look the hard facts in the face. 

“ If the man has been arrested,” he said, “ it 
seems to me that we are powerless. The whole of 
the facts are bound to come out. Your conduct,” 
he added, turning to ,me, “ has of course been 
blameless, even, I should imagine, from the legal 

270 


CAPTAIN WELFARE’S SIGNAL 271 

point of view. At least I do not quite see in what 
form any charge could be made against you. The 
extreme difficulty of the circumstances in which 
you were placed would of Course be appreciated. 
I do not see how your action could be described as 
abetting, since you did all in your power to break 
up the conspiracy and defeat its ends. 

" Your brother’s case is of course quite different. 
The fact that he had no direct financial interest 
in the sale of the drug is only an extenuating 
circumstance. You were aware of the whole trans¬ 
action,” he said, addressing Edmund; “you aided 
in it, if only by helping to navigate the boat. I 
do not think there is the least doubt that a judge 
would take a very grave view of your offence, 
and of its effect on the prestige of the English in 
Egypt. In your case discovery would of course 
mean irretrievable disgrace, a punishment utterly 
out of all proportion to the real sinfulness of your 
act, at least as I see it. It is because of the injustice 
involved in that, in what would be the real sentence, 
and because of the damage that would be done to 
our countrymen in the East, that I feel we are 
justified in circumventing the law, if that be still 
possible.” 

I could see the tide of humiliation pass across 
Edmund’s face, as he sat with folded arms, listening 
to the bishop’s calm judicial statement of the posi¬ 
tion, but when at last he looked up, I thought I 
saw in his eyes that it had been a cleansing tide. 

“I am afraid,” he said very slowly, “ it would 
be impertinent in me, my lord, to thank you for 
what you are doing, for what you have proposed 
to do, even for speaking to me, after you have 
known all this about me. God knows I under¬ 
stand now the rottenness of my whole life so fax. 


272 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

If I could only keep my brother's name out of it, 
I would rather that everything came out; I would 
rather take the punishment. I do not mind, since 
you and he think I might have made good still, if 
the chance had come. I can face everything but 
disgrace coming home to him. You know he has 
been more than any brother to me. I had for¬ 
gotten what it was to be a gentleman. But if I 
have to make my new start in prison I shall act as 
one now. I can do it, since you believe I could. 
I wish I knew how to thank you." 

Edmund’s voice broke in a sob very painful to 
us to hear. 

The bishop rose and went over to him. “ My 
dear boy," he said, laying a hand on his shoulder 
with an instinctive pastoral gesture, " you are 
welcome to thank me. I know it is a natural, 
wholesome desire. But you must understand that 
I am only trying to interpret what I believe to be 
our Lord’s attitude to sinners who repent. You 
have probably come to disbelieve in what is called 
prayer. Nevertheless prayer is a natural instinct 
implanted in all of us; a desire we cannoh get 
rid of, whatever our beliefs or disbeliefs may be. 
I advise you to leave us now and go and yield to 
that instinct. Whatever may happen now we 
need say no more about this aspect of the case." 

As Edmund rose to obey him, the bishop took 
his hand for a moment in silence, and there was a 
look in his face that made me think of Him who 
rose “ with healing in his wings." 

“ Poor warped boy ! ’’ he exclaimed as the door 
closed; “ there is a great capacity for goodness 
and nobility in him, all stunted by mere circum¬ 
stance. Davoren, I feel that we must save him at 
almost any cost. Why should we desire the 


CAPTAIN WELFARE'S SIGNAL 273 

punishment even of this nefarious Arab ? It will 
surely be better to make him * cease to do evil and 
learn to do well.' Have you ever thought out 
the distinction between crime and sin ? " 

“ I have never regarded them as necessarily 
related," I answered. 

“ No, they are not. If we could establish that 
essential relationship we should have achieved 
the ideal State. Probably that was what Plato 
really meant. But now we must come down to 
sordid details. Assuming that this Arab escapes 
the police and finds you here, have you any plan 
for dealing with him ? " 

“ None. We have discussed it up and down 
since yesterday, but could come to no conclusion." 

“ I should be inclined to offer him a chance to 
accompany your brother and Captain Welfare, 
that is if they decided to go to Nyasaland. We 
could offer him congenial employment, fair pay, 
and above all a chance of escape from * justice.' 
We must remember that the one strength of our 
position is that he is a hunted man. A desperate 
man is dangerous, therefore the proper treatment 
for him is to offer him hope." 

We spent a long time discussing what our course 
should be if the worst came to pass, and how we 
were to make a future for Edmund when he should 
have purged his folly. The afternoon was fading 
into evening, when Bates came in with a perturbed 
expression. 

“ I beg your pardon, sir," he said, “ there is a man 
at the door who refuses to go away until he has seen 
you," 

“ Well, Bates ? Why should he not see me ? 
What is his business ? " 

“ He wouldn't say, sir. Excuse me, sir, but he 

s 


274 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

is a foreign looking person, though not dressed 
as such. I think he is one of those Arabs that 
came in the-yacht, sir.” 

The bishop and I looked at each other with a 
great relief. Here was Jakoub, and he was still 
at liberty, the worst had not yet come to pass. 

“Til go and see him, Bates,” I said; “ will you 
excuse me, bishop ? ” 

“ Don’t mind me if you wish to bring him in here,” 
the bishop answered in a perfectly natural manner. 

I went out to meet Jakoub at the door, Bates 
following me like a dog bristling with distrust of 
some instinctive foe. 

As soon as he opened the door a man stepped 
quickly inside, in spite of a protesting movement 
from Bates. 

For a moment my heart misgave me, for in this 
cloth-capped stranger, clad in cheap but respect¬ 
able brown tweed, I failed to recognise Jakoub. But 
a flash from his eyes reassured me, and there was 
no mistaking his greeting. “ All raight, effendi! ” 
he said in his old mocking tone, “ it is I, Jakoub.” 

I think his quick intuition was disconcerted at 
my manifest pleasure in welcoming him! No 
doubt he had calculated on meeting fear or anger. 

“ Come in,” I said cordially. “ I am very glad 
to see you again, Jakoub. It is quite right, Bates, 
just go and tell Mr. Edmund he will find an old 
friend with us in the study.” 

Bates went upstairs distrustfully, and I led 
Jakoub into the study. 

“ Bishop, this is Jakoub,” I said with a happy 
smile; “Jakoub, this is my sheikh.” 

The bishop nodded pleasantly and Jakoub in¬ 
stinctively salaamed, touching his forehead and 
breast. 


CAPTAIN WELFARE'S SIGNAL 275 

He stood with his hands folded before him looking 
uneasily from one to the other of us. He was 
evidently nonplussed and suspicious, and doubtless 
felt at a disadvantage in the strange ugly clothes 
which vulgarised and robbed him of all his natural 
dignity. 

“ I came to speak with you private," he said 
sullenly. 

“ Sit down then. We are private. The sheikh 
knows all about our business, Jakoub. Mr. Mont¬ 
gomery is here too. He will be with us in a 
moment." 

I used the false name purposely to try if Jakoub 
knew Edmund by any other, but he made no 
comment. 

“ If you think I am in a trap, you mistake. Very 
big mistake," he muttered viciously. 

“ None of us thinks so, Jakoub. If you are in 
trouble, we want to help you. Have a cigarette ? " 
He took the cigarette greedily, as one who had 
fasted for some time. It seemed to restore a little 
of his confidence. 

“ Jakoub is in no trouble," he remarked, as he 
sat uneasily on the edge of a low chair. 

Edmund came in at this moment, quite calm 
and collected, without a trace of his recent emo¬ 
tional crisis. 

“ Well, Jakoub," he said, “ you have turned up ? " 

"Yes. I have come. I have come for my 
rights, for my money and for Van Ermengen, 
effendi’s. We will not be robbed." 

“ No," said Edmund, “ but you may be arrested, 
you know. The police-" 

“ Bah! Your police—I fear them not. We 
knew they would wait for me at your harbour. 
So I make myself to have the job to go away in the 



276 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

little boat with a line to the buoy. Last night 
before the steamer stop, before the gangway is 
out, I am away from her in the dark. I wrap my 
galabieh round a stone and drop her in the water. 
Then I put on these, these clothes, boots, hat; 
and I row to a good place on the shore, while your 
police are looking for me on the ship! Who will 
find Jakoub now ? I am not a mouse to walk in 
a trap ! " 

“ That was very clever/' the bishop put in. 

" It is my business to be clever ! " said Jakoub, 
showing his teeth a little, as he looked round from 
one to the other of us, malignant and implacable. 

I was at a loss as to how to continue the conver¬ 
sation. I felt as I have sometimes felt when trying 
to play chess for the entertainment of better players, 
uncertain even as to whose move it was next. It 
was therefore a great relief to me when Edmund 
spoke in a tone that suggested his intention of taking 
command of our side. 

“ You had better tell us," he said, “ why you 
have come here, and what it is that you want." 

“ I have come for the money I am owed, I and 
Van Ermengen effendi. I have my papers, my 
account." 

He sought in the unfamiliar pockets of what 
tailors call a “ lounge suit," and produced a folded 
sheet of foolscap which Edmund took from him. 

“ We have already had all this by post from 
Van Ermengen," Edmund remarked as he looked 6ver 
the paper. “ Why did he send you here ? " 

“ Because you did not answer. You sent no 
money," Jakoub answered doggedly. 

“ And suppose we send this money to Van 
Ermengen, how are you going to get your share 
from him ? If we enable you to escape the police 


CAPTAIN WELFARE'S SIGNAL 277 

here, will you go back to Egypt ? Don't take 
me for a fool, Jakoub. It won't help you." 

“ You pay me my share here. I care no more 
for Van Ermengen." 

The bishop and I looked at each other. We began 
to see the drift of Edmund’s diplomacy; to detach 
Jakoub from Van Ermengen was decidedly a gain. 

“ I don’t suppose you do care for him," Edmund 
said, “ and yet you are trying to play his game, 
knowing he will swindle you in the end." 

“ But without him I could not have come here," 
Jakoub pointed out with another smile of cool 
effrontery. 

“ I could stay no more in Egypt," he added, 
“ so I use Van Ermengen to find you and Captain 
Ringrose, and the effendi here. It is you who have 
gone with my property—you are the thieves, and 
you will give back my share, or come with me to 
the prison." 

"You might get us into prison, Jakoub, but you 
could not get us hanged. Do you know," he asked 
suddenly, taking a step towards Jakoub and standing 
over him in a threatening attitude, “ do you know 
that we can have you hanged ? Do you know 
that we found Achmed in Marseilles and he told 
us all that happened in that house at Damanhour 
where the merchant was murdered two years ago ? 
We know where to find Achmed whenever we want 
him." 

Jakoub's face was distorted with the spasm of 
sudden terror, like that of a man who suddenly 
sees some unsuspected object close by him in the 
dark. His right hand made a movement towards 
the unaccustomed breast pocket, but Edmund 
seized his wrist in a flash. His grasp brought a 
cry from Jakoub. 


278 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

“ Effendi! You break my arm ! Let me go.” 

“ Hand over your weapon first.” 

” I have none. I swear it. Search me, effendi! ” 

Edmund slowly relinquished his grasp. I thought 
of the knife I had seen in Jakoub's hand that 
night at Alexandria when I was awakened by 
the brushing of that hand along my bedroom wall. 
But I was paralysed by the sudden violence of this 
scene in my quiet studyv I saw the bishop sitting 
tense, braced for sudden action. But Edmund 
did not trouble to search Jakoub; he lounged back 
to the mantelpiece and it seemed that a crisis 
had ended. 

“ It does not matter if you have a weapon, 
Jakoub, for you dare not use it. Now listen, we 
offer you safety, or at least to help you to safety 
if we can. You may not believe it, but it is a 
fact that the whole of the hashish is at the bottom 
of the sea. We threw it overboard and sank it 
for reasons of our own. We may help you to earn 
an honest living in safety, if you choose to. At 
least, that is what we meant to offer you. But 
these gentlemen did not know for certain until 
this minute that you were a murderer. When I 
tell them what the man was whom you killed, 
they may still help you. I do not know.” 

Edmund paused and looked enquiringly at the 
bishop. 

“ We ought to have known of this,” the bishop 
said very gravely. 

“ I was going to tell you, my lord. If I may 
send Jakoub out of the room I will tell you the whole 
story. He had better think over our offer, in 
case it still holds good. But understand, Jakoub, 
that alone and unaided in England you can no 
more escape our police than a quail can escape 


CAPTAIN WELFARE’S SIGNAL 279 

your net when it lands in Egypt. This is not 
Egypt. If you choose to quarrel with us you know 
now what to expect.” 

I felt a kind of pity for Jakoub as I looked at 
him. He was changed from the masterful villain 
I had known ; the man to whose skill and courage 
in the desert I probably owed my life. 

He was now a huddled figure in his chair, and 
under Edmund’s new threat he looked beaten, weak, 
and forlorn. It occurred to me that he might 
have had little or no food on his journey, and I 
always find something pathetic in the more primitive 
human needs. I was sure, too, that Jakoub would 
regard Edmund’s last remark as a warning that the 
whole system of backshish would, in this country, 
be against him as a foreigner without money. 
It would seem to him quite natural that a person 
like myself should have the entire legislature in 
his pay, and this would of course be a depressing 
thought. My feelings as a host were aroused 
on his behalf, but I recognised the impossibility 
of suggesting that he should join us at dinner. 

“ Perhaps,” I said, " Jakoub is ready for some 
food and a glass of wine ? I am sorry not to have 
thought of it sooner. I am afraid you are tired, 
Jakoub.” 

I noticed a flicker of humorous appreciation of 
the situation pass between Edmund and Jakoub, 
and as the latter must have had murder in his heart 
but a moment before, and the other had used 
force to frustrate the intention, I suppose my 
conventional words were really somewhat absurd. 

But Jakoub rose and salaamed with the cere¬ 
mony demanded of an Oriental when hospitality 
is in question. 

“ Jakoub is never tired,” he said, “ but he has 


280 a MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

come far, fasting. The effendi is kind, and Jakoub 
gives thanks to Allah and to him. Jakoub needs 
food and remembers the red wine he drank in the 
Temple of Osiris. It is not yet Ramadan/' 

“ That’s all right,” I said, “ Ill ring for Bates.” 

Bates at the door, in response to my summons, 
gave us a wonderful piece of acting. He was 
representing the part of a servant unconscious 
of the existence of the foreign element in our con¬ 
clave. The perfect correctness of his demeanour 
made all three of us feel abject in a way that no 
threat from Jakoub could have done. 

“ Bates,” I said, “ this gentleman will have some 
dinner in the morning-room. And tell Mrs. Rattray 
that we shall be ready in a quarter of an hour.” 

Bates's aspect relaxed its severity at once, and I 
perceived that I had acquired merit in his eyes. 
He knew that I never referred to my friends as 
“ gentlemen,” and my use of the term now was, 
in his eyes, opprobrious. I think he may have 
suspected me of an intention to have Jakoub in 
the dining-room, which would have involved his 
giving me notice, and wrecking his own life’s happi¬ 
ness. As it was, he made an imperious gesture 
to Jakoub, who followed him out of the room quite 
meekly. 

“ I think we had better go and dress,” I said, 
looking at my watch, " we can talk things over after 
dinner.” 

We said no more to each other then, but as we 
went upstairs in silence it occurred to me that 
Bates might handle Jakoub more successfully even 
than the bishop 

Dinner that night was a meal purposely abbrevi¬ 
ated, for we could not resume our discussion until 
Bates had completed his functions and left us with 


CAPTAIN WELFARE’S SIGNAL 2S1 

the walnuts and a decanter of port for Edmund and 
myself. 

The lingering twilight of summer reduced the 
shaded candles on the table to the level of an agree¬ 
able but adventitious ornament. There are few" 
things more lovely than the ruby patch on white 
damask of candle-light focussed through cut-glass 
containing some ancient vintage of the grape of 
sun-soaked Portugal. That crimson spot, with 
radiating lines and concentric curves of topaz light, 
has always given me, since childhood days, the thrill 
of joy that jewellery provides, and stained-glass 
windows, and distant rockets bursting inaudible 
in a summer sky. 

I think we all three were conscious of the hedon¬ 
istic influence of our surroundings, and found it 
difficult to bring our minds back to the sinister 
presence in the adjoining room, to the idea of Jakoub 
there, calculating his line of conduct from an 
ethical standpoint unintelligible to us. 

I certainly felt an intense reluctance to return 
to the consideration of our clouded future, and I 
am sure the others shared it. 

We might have sat there indefinitely as far as 
I was concerned. But the bishop with a sigh re¬ 
called us to the immediate necessities of our situation. 

We had been discoursing pleasantly of many 
things interesting but remote from our immediate 
circumstances, when he broke in on our artificial 
calm. 

“ Well, we are keeping Jakoub waiting,” he said; 

“ had we not better know the facts about this new 
charge against him ? ” 

“ Yes. You must know the facts. I have been 
waiting to tell you,” Edmund answered. “ I can only 
give you the facts as I have heard them from a 


282 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

man who has no reason to love Jakoub. All I 
can say is that both Welfare and I have every 
reason to believe the story, for we both knew the 
man who was killed. Either of us would have 
killed him if we could. It is a disgusting story.” 

It was a story so loathsome in its details that 
I have tried to blot them from my mind. It con¬ 
cerned an elderly Egyptian who had made vast 
sums of money by land speculations at the time 
when the Egyptian cotton industry was embryonic. 
He had chosen one of his sons as his heir, and sent 
the youth to Europe to be " educated.” The young 
man had absorbed all the villainy and corruption 
that can be found in the lowest classes of the great 
cities of England and the continent, and returned 
to inherit his father's wealth with his native Oriental 
brutality instructed and refined by Western cun¬ 
ning and Western niceties of debauchery and greed. 
As he lost his inherited wealth to more cunning 
rogues, he tried to recover it by becoming the 
principal organiser of the hashish trade. In this 
capacity he came to owe Jakoub the w r ages of 
subordinate villainy. Jakoub had taken him by 
surprise in his secret villa at Damanhour. He had 
found him torturing a woman who had been a girl 
in Jakoub’s village in the Delta. Jakoub had slain 
him and escaped undetected. Edmund had now 
found a witness who could prove Jakoub to be 
the murderer. 

“ I have threatened Jakoub with this know¬ 
ledge,” Edmund concluded, “ but sooner than use 
it against him really, I would have my tongue 
torn out.” 

Neither of us made any comment on the story, 
and Edmund remained silent during a considerable 
pause, nervously fidgeting with his napkin ring. 


CAPTAIN WELFARE'S SIGNAL 283 

“ I think we must have the man in, Davoren," 
the bishop said at last, " but first we must be quite 
assured as to what we are to say to him." 

" Yes. We had better get it over," I agreed. 

" Am I to understand definitely," the bishop 
asked Edmund, " that if all goes well you will accept 
this offer of the Colonial Secretary ? " 

" I will indeed, most thankfully," Edmund as¬ 
sured him. 

" And you think it probable that Captain Wel¬ 
fare would join you ? " 

“ I cannot imagine his refusing." 

" Well, that's all right so far-" 

He was interrupted by a metallic clang, twice 
repeated. It was the old sound of the hammer 
on the anvil in the forge, brought to us along the 
tunnel. But it was an unusual time to hear it, 
and to all* of us there was something minatory in 
the sound of those three strokes. 

The bishop broke off in his sentence, and we all 
three listened, silent and uneasy. 

The three loud strokes were repeated. 

" They are working late at the forge," the bishop 
remarked. 

" That is not blacksmith’s work," I answered 
with an apprehensive note in my voice. 

There came a succession of blows, apparently 
from a lighter hammer, yet with a sound unusual 
and unfamiliar to me, making as it were a kind 
of tune. 

Suddenly Edmund's face " sprang to attention " 
as it were. He took a pencil from his pocket, and 
seizing a menu card, began making rapid marks on 
it, as the tune on the anvil rang on. 

The bishop and I watched him in amazement. 

"It's Welfare," he said; " our private call in 



284 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

Morse. Here’s his message coming. Excuse me.” 

For some minutes the noise went on, the bishop 
and I, elbows on table, watching Edmund as he 
jotted down dots and dashes on the cardboard. 
He put out his hand for a fresh card, and I had 
had the sense to have one ready for him, so there 
was no interruption in his recording of the message. 

Presently the hammering ceased. 

We listened for a moment, but no more sound 
came from the anvil. Edmund set himself to 
deciphering and transcribing the message. 

Finally he read aloud: “ Police traced Jakoub to 
vicarage. Doors watched. Will arrest at once. 
Send him down passage. I wiJl meet him at end.” 

“ We must act at once,” the bishop observed, 
rising from his chair; “perhaps you had better 
get him away,” he added to Edmund. Edmund 
nodded and moved towards the door. 

“ One moment,” I said, “ I must get Mrs. Rattray 
and the maid out of the kitchen. We shall have to 
take Bates into our confidence.” 

I left the room, and finding Mrs. Rattray sent her 
and her assistant to carry out some extraordinary 
rearrangement of the bishop’s room. I told her 
that his Lordship had been unwell, and these 
arrangements were the doctor’s orders. This 
silenced her protests of amazement, and having 
got rid of the women I spoke hurriedly to Bates 
in the; hall. 

“ Bates,” I said, " the police are coming here for 
this Arab. They will be here any moment now.” 

“ Very good, sir.” Bates answered with evident 
gratification. 

“ But he is not to be arrested here. Mr. Edmund 
has particular reasons for not wishing it.” 

“ Oh, very well, sir.” 


CAPTAIN WELFARE'S SIGNAL 285 

“ Mr. Edmund is going to let him out through 
the cellar, into the passage. When the police call 
you will show them into the dining-room. In the 
meantime you must make it appear that the man 
has gone through the morning-room window. Do 
you understand ? " 

“ Yes, sir." 

“ I am afraid, Bates, it may not be possible for 
you to speak the precise truth about the business— 
to the police, I mean. Have you any objection ? " 

“ Well, sir, as long as you and his Lordship say 
so, I have no doubt it is all correct." 

“ That’s all right then." 

As I spoke Edmund came out of the morning- 
room with Jakoub. 

“ The idiot swears it’s a trap. He says he won’t 
go unless the ‘ sheikh,’ as he calls him, promises 
we are doing the straight thing." 

“ It is Ringrose," growled Jakoub; “ I know him ; 
this is his plan to trap me." 

“I swear, Jakoub——’’ I began, but then the 
bishop, who had overheard the conversation, joined 
us. 

“ I promise you," he said, “ in the name cf the 
one God whom we both worship, that we are doing 
what we believe to be the best thing for you as 
well as for others. I promise that in this we are 
dealing faithfully with you. Now go quickly. It 
is your only chance of safety." 

Jakoub followed Edmund down to the cellar with¬ 
out another w T ord. 

The bishop and I returned to the dining-room 
and resumed our seats at the table. 

My heart w r as beating painfully as we heard 
through the floor the harsh grating of the door 
that led from the cellar to the passage. We heard 



286 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

it opened, and it seemed an age before it was dragged 
to, and the rusty bolts shot back. I think the 
bishop breathed a little rapidly too. 

As Edmund rejoined us with an enquiring glance 
I shook my head. 

“ I wonder what is keeping them/’ he said as 
he sat down in his place. 

I explained briefly what I had arranged with 
Bates. 

“Don’t you think,'bishop,” I asked, “that it 
would be better for you to leave us ? If anything 
were to go wrong, it would be intolerable that 
your name should even be mentioned.” 

“ It is certainly disagreeable,” he replied; “ it is 
intensely painful to deceive these men in the 
execution of their duty. We are unquestionably 
aiding a criminal to escape, in fact ‘ compounding 
a felony.’ Nevertheless, my conscience is quite 
definite in the matter and approves of^what we are 
doing. It is the old question, Davoren, of the 
difference between crime and sin. The crime for 
which the law would put this man to death was 
not a sin. It was manifestly a righteous action. 
It was an impulse which no decent man would 
have resisted. Of course, society could not exist 
if everyone were to be allowed to decide such ques¬ 
tions. But I claim as much right to judge of 
wickedness as a judge has to decide questions of 
crime. But if I left you now it would be cowardice, 
and my conscience would not acquit me.” 

“ But how terribly the world would misjudge 
you ! ” 

“ That is not a thing from which a Christian 
should shrink,” the bishop observed quietly, and 
so closed the discussion. 

Edmund helped himself to a glass of wine. 


CAPTAIN WELFARE’S SIGNAL 287 

“ It will look more natural when they come in,” 
he said, “ as if we were only just finishing dinner.” 

I was glad to follow his example, for in truth 
the, sudden development of our perplexities, the 
strange manner of its announcement, and the 
necessity for sudden action had left me' shaken* in 
mind and body and, I fear, a little tremulous. 

As Edmund lit a cigarette the hall-door bell 
was rung. 


CHAPTER XVII 

^HOW CAPTAIN WELFARE RETURNED 

W E waited but a few moments in silence 
before Bates ushered in our local con¬ 
stable, an old friend of mine, and one 
who had a professional veneration for my position 
as a County Magistrate, who sat in judgment alike 
on vagrants and poachers, and those haughty 
contemners of the law who exceed the speed limit 
in expensive motor-cars. 

He was clearly very much embarrassed as he 
introduced his companion, an officer in plain 
clothes, whom he announced as Sergeant Moore, of 
Southampton. 

All three of us looked keenly at the stranger 
whose personality might mean so much to the 
success of our plans and hopes. He was a thor¬ 
oughly representative specimen of our admirable 
County police. A well-built man, in superb physical 
condition, good-looking and intelligent. I summed 
him up at once as a man who would be inflexible 
in the exercise of his duty, and alert in detecting 
any suspicious circumstance; in fact, a difficult 
man to hoodwink, and impossible to corrupt had 
anyone wished to do so. 

Nevertheless, I was encouraged by something 
in his face that suggested the influence of routine. 
It was not the face of an imaginative man. This 

288 


HOW CAPTAIN WELFARE RETURNED 289 

was not the detective of fiction, nor even one of 
those choicer spirits of Scotland Yard to whom 
no combination of circumstances is so improbable 
as to appear incredible. I trusted that it might 
be impossible to Sergeant Moore, confronted with 
a bishop and a magistrate, to suspect them of 
complicity in the vice of an obscure Oriental criminal. 

When the introductions were completed, Sergeant 
Moore himself proceeded to explain. 

“ I am very sorry to intrude, my Lord and gentle¬ 
men/’ he began, “ we would not have troubled 
you if we could have helped it. But the fact is 
I have a warrant to execute, and Constable Davis 
has seen a man answering the description coming here 
just before I arrived. To avoid troubling you, sir, 
I have had the house watched so as to take him 
when he came out. But as it was getting dark 
and he did not appear I became anxious, and thought 
you would excuse me coming in to arrest him 
here, though I know it must be unpleasant.” 

“ I hope none of us are wanted, sergeant ? ” 
Edmund enquired jokingly. 

“ No, sir,” replied the sergeant with a smile. 
“No, it is some kind of a foreigner from Egypt, 
name of Osman. He was one of the crew of a steamer 
that made Southampton last night. He managed 
to give us the slip there, but we had no difficulty 
in tracing him to Brighton, as he took the train there, 
and the young man in the ticket office remembered 
his way of speaking. I came on to Brighton with 
two men in a car and we lost the scent there, but 
we heard of a foreigner being seen on this road 
in the afternoon. Fortunately, Constable Davis 
here noticed him and followed him to this house. 
He naturally thought it was all right when he 
saw him let in. I hope he is still here, sir.” 


290 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

“ I left him in the next room, having some food/* 
I said. “ He was my guide, or dragoman, during 
a recent trip in Egypt, and came here asking for 
money, as he said he was destitute and knew 
no one else in England/' 

Sergeant Moore looked much relieved. 

“ I think it will be best if we go and slip these 
on at once,” he said, producing a pair of handcuffs. 
“ Davis and I will just slip in quietly, and get him 
unawares. He is said to be a dangerous character, 
and I don't want any disturbance in the house.” 

“ By all means,”. I said, “ I will show you the 
room.” 

“ I had better go and bear a hand, in case you 
want any help,” Edmund said, rising. 

The sergeant looked approvingly at his athletic 
form and thanked him. 

“ I suppose there is no doubt of this being the 
right man ? ” I hazarded. 

“ He is certainly the man referred to in my instruc¬ 
tions. If you don’t mind we’ll go at once, and 
very quietly, please. I will go first and get on 
the far side of him; Davis, you follow and grip 
him, and look out for a knife. These fellows are 
handy with them.” 

We all rose, the bishop, who had not spoken, 
following us to the door. 

We stepped noiselessly across the carpeted hall, 
and I pointed out the door of the morning-room, 
my heart beating almost as fast as though Jakoub 
had still been there in fact. 

Sergeant Moore opened the door and slipped 
inside, followed closely by Davis. I heard an oath 
of extreme impropriety from the sergeant, followed 
by the shrill sound of his whistle. 

We followed them into the room, and found 


HOW CAPTAIN WELFARE RETURNED 291 

both policemen leaning out of the open window. 
Sergeant Moore blew another blast on his whistle, 
and then turned round, his face flushed with vexa¬ 
tion. 

“ He has done us again, sir. For the present, 
that is—bolted through the window ! Halt there ! ” 
he cried, looking out of the window again as a 
constable came round from the front in response 
to the whistle. “ Get tyour bull’s-eye going, and 
come carefully up to the window, but don’t pass 
it. Look for tracks of someone leaving the house 
this way.” 

Here was something I had not foreseen. 

The turf of the lawn came right up to the house 
on this side, but to the trained eyes of these men 
the total absence of any vestige of a man’s jumping 
out would be intensely suspicious. They would 
be bound to search the house. They would find 
the entrance to the passage, and traces there. How 
then could they avoid the conclusion that I had 
connived at the man’s escape ? 

While these thoughts passed through my mind 
the constable had lighted his lamp and reconnoitred 
the ground. 

“ There’s two heel-marks here,” he now reported, 
still stooping with his lantern, “ somebody has 
jumped down within the last few minutes. I can 
see a track across the lawn where the dew has 
been brushed off the grass.” 

“ Follow it carefully,” said the sergeant, “ but 
keep off it. Don’t foul it.” 

For a moment I was bewildered at this informa¬ 
tion. Who, I wondered, had made these tracks, 
since Jakoub had not ? Then I caught a faint 
smile of understanding on Edmund’s face, and I 
realised that Bates was a much cleverer man than 



292 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

myself, that he possessed what Ruskin calls “ imagi¬ 
nation penetrative.” 

“ Somebody has been through the fence here,” 
said the constable from the far side of the lawn. 

“ Wait for me, then,” the sergeant replied, lower¬ 
ing himself out of the window. Beyond the fence 
was a private footpath, hard as iron in this weather, 
where Bates’s footprints leading back to the kitchen 
entrance would be quite invisible. In the other 
direction the path led on to the high-road. 

“ Excuse me, gentlemen,” said the sergeant as 
he reached the ground, “ but I’d be obliged if you 
would be careful not to disturb anything in that 
room until I have a chance to examine it.” 

“ Certainly,” I said, “ we are going to my study 
where you will find us if you have time to return, 
or if we can help you in any way.” 

I had a hasty look round the room. Jakoub’s 
half-finished meal was there. Otherwise it was 
exactly as usual. I could conceive of nothing there 
that could suggest the truth to the most acute 
mind. Even if it were possible to leave traces 
on a carpet, these must all be obliterated since five 
of us had passed in and out. 

I saw Edmund also looking round with a search¬ 
ing eye, and then we adjourned to the study. 

The sense of guilt and even shame was stronger 
in me than I had anticipated, and I am sure the 
others felt likewise, for we all three sat silent and 
uneasy, as if we had suddenly become strangers 
to each other, as indeed in a sense we had. 

The bishop was the first to break the silence 
which we all felt tigh* ning round us like a cord, 
and I was thankful to him. There are situations 
in which people who allow themselves to drift into 
silence prolonged beyond a certain limit are power- 


HOW CAPTAIN WELFARE RETURNED 293 

• 

less to regain the mutual confidence of normal 
speech. I am sure it was to prevent this happening 
in our case that he enquired of Edmund what he 
thought Welfare’s present plan would be. 

“ I should think he will probably double back 
towards Brighton along the beach. Of course, he 
has no idea in which direction the police will search, 
and back towards • Brighton is perhaps the least 
likely. It is bad going on the beach, but on the stones 
he would leave no track. Somewhere before 
reaching Brighton he would have to leave the coast, 
strike inland and find a hiding-place before morn¬ 
ing. He is sure to make for London. Jakoub 
is too conspicuous in the country. They will have 
to travel at night and find a hiding-place for Jakoub 
during the day. It will take them the best part 
of three nights to reach London.” 

“ Do you think they have much chance of eluding 
the police ? ” the bishop asked. 

“ I think they will, because Welfare can move 
about as he likes in the day-time. He can get 
provisions and reconnoitre. If they had any 
idea that Jakoub had a companion, and had a 
description of him, it would be almost impossible, 
as of course every village constable will be warned 
before morning.” 

“ Welfare might find a boat,” I suggested. 

“ Too risky,” Edmund opined, “ the boat would 
be missed, and even if they sank it and swam 
ashore the police would be able to concentrate 
their attention on the coast. Welfare will see that 
the police have a bigger job to cover the whole 
country.” 

This discussion of the possible plans and chances 
of the fugitives was quite an agreeable diversion 
and greatly relieved the tension of our feelings 


294 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

until Sergeant Moore rejoined us, looking irritated 
and crestfallen. 

“ I have just called to say we can find no trace 
of him beyond your hedge, not in this light, sir. 
I wonder if you have such a thing as a road map 
of these parts, sir ? ” 

"Certainly, sergeant. Won’t you sit down ? ” 

“ No, thank you, sir, I must get back to the 
station and spend the night on the telephone. It’s 
all we can do until morning.” 

I spread a map on the desk, and we bent over 
it together, Edmund looking over my shoulder. 

Sergeant Moore made a few hurried measurements 
of places within twenty miles of my house which I 
located for him on the map. 

“ Thank you, sir,” he said, “ I think it won’t be 
difficult to put a ring round him before morning. I 
think you said he doesn’t know the country at all, 
sir? ” 

“ As far as I know he has never been in England 
before. But he seemed to find his way here all 
right.” 

“ Of course he had your address ? ” 

“ Oh yes. He got that from the hotel I stopped 
at in Egypt.” 

“You would call him an intelligent man ? ” 

“ Very. He was an admirable guide in the 
desert.” 

” And he speaks English well ? ” 

“ Perfectly. Of course he expresses himself in a 
peculiar way, but he understands everything. I 
wish I could speak Arabic as well! ” I added with a 
sigh. 

“ May I just read over the description I have of 
him ? You could perhaps tell me if it corresponds 
with the man you know.” 


HOW CAPTAIN WELFARE RETURNED 295 

He read the description. Within its formal 
limits it was an accurate portrait of Jakoub, but I was 
able to add some details as to his present costume 
for which the sergeant thanked me. 

“ I think that’s all,” he said, pocketing his note¬ 
book ; “I am exceedingly sorry for disturbing his 
lordship and you gentlemen.” 

I felt a sense of intense relief, for I had feared 
every mcment that the man might ask some ques¬ 
tion which would embarrass me, and perhaps lead 
me to arouse suspicion. But it was clear that the 
whole story seemed perfectly natural and true to 
the sergeant. The idea of cross-examination had 
never occurred to him. The bishop rose and offered 
his hand with his peculiar winning grace. 

“ Good-night, sergeant,” he said, “ don’t think you 
have disturbed us in the least. It is not often that 
we clergymen have an opportunity of seeing the 
actual work of such men as you. I have been 
intensely interested in the whole affair, and greatly 
impressed by your zeal and capacity. I fear we 
don’t always realise how much we owe to our 
indefatigable defenders.” 

“ Thank you, my lord,” said the sergeant, flushing 
with pleasure at this unwonted praise from so high 
a quarter. 

As he left the room with a final salute the bishop 
rather wearily resumed his seat. 

“ That,” lie said, passing a hand over his brow, 
“ is the one man we have really wronged through¬ 
out this very painful transaction.” 

I thought of my poor friend Brogden, but I did 
not remind the bishop of him. 

I had dreaded the interview with the police, but 
now that it was over, now that we seemed to have 
achieved our purpose, I felt none of the elation 


296 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

of complete relief. The sergeant’s confidence in 
his ability “ to make a ring round Jakoub ” alarmed 
me, and I knew that I should have no sense of 
security until we heard from Welfare of his safety, 
until, in fact, Jakoub was out of the country, 
and I could believe that the hunt for him was at 
an end. 

We formed a gloomy trio, disinclined to talk, yet 
unwilling to separate and retire to bed. I do 
not think my conscience was uneasy, but to the 
strongest mind I suppose there must be some¬ 
thing strangely upsetting in finding oneself opposed 
to law and the commonly accepted standards of 
conduct. 

I am sure I was not the only member of the party 
who felt this influence. 

We continued for a long time in desultory talk 
with intervals of embarrassed silence. 

It was after such a pause that my restlessness 
got the better of me, and going to the window I 
drew aside the curtains. 

The full moon was high in the heavens approach¬ 
ing the meridian. It still rode in a clear sky, though 
to my surprise I saw a great bank of cloud towering 
swiftly upwards from the west, though the sun 
had set without any sign of an end to the long 
spell of summer drought we had experienced. 

“It looks as if the weather is going to break,” 
I remarked, still looking out. 

I heard Edmund rise and tap the aneroid on 
the mantelpiece. 

“ The glass is coming down with a run,” he said, 
then he and the bishop joined me at the window. 

We stood there in silence, wrapt in contemplation 
of the splendour of the moonlight. Beneath it 
the channel appeared as a silver background to 


HOW CAPTAIN WELFARE RETURNED 297 

the black silhouette of trees. A faint flush was 
reflected from the red roofs of houses in the village. 
The lawn before us was a silver mystery woven of 
a myriad threads of dew-besprinkled gossamer, 
and flowers looked up with pallid, unfamiliar faces 
to the sky. 

The lustre of the stars near the triumphant 
moon was dimmed, but low down in the south-east 
I could see the lovely constellation Scorpio, like a 
diamond pendant with a topaz heart. 

Even the corncrakes were hushed, and nothing 
stirred on earth or in the air around us. The only 
movement was the majestic advance of the vast 
cloud spreading from the west, threatening an 
invasion ,of “ the Peace of God which passeth all 
understanding/’ Standing thus with our backs 
to the room, we were all unaware of Bates's entrance 
until he was close behind us. 

“ I beg your pardcn, sir," he said, almost in a 
whisper. 

I turned to see his face, looking white in the 
moonlight, and with a perturbed expression very 
unusual in him. 

“ What is it, Bates ? " I asked. 

“ There seems to be someone wanting to get 
into the cellar from the passage. I think it must 
be that native come back, sir. I thought I had 
better take your instructions before opening the 
door." 

We turned back into the room at once, all three 
of us at a loss before this shock of the totally unex¬ 
pected. The immediate return of Jakoub was 
something I had never contemplated. In the 
attempt to rearrange my ideas I was speechless. 

“ Why do you think he is there ? " I heard 
Edmund asking, “ tell us what has happened." 


298 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

“ Mrs. Rattray thought she heard a tapping in 
the cellar, sir. She has been very nervous about 
this man being in the house, and terribly upset 
at the police coming and the man’s escape. She 
said she wouldn’t sleep a wink all night. I thought 
it was her nerves when she said she heard something, 
so I went down and listened. I told her it was 
nothing and got her off to bed. But there was 
somebody there, sir, and he has just been tapping 
again, very gentle and careful like.” 

“ We must let him in, of course,” Edmund said, 
looking at me. I nodded. 

“ I will go,” he added, “ and, Bates, you had 
better come and bring a light. But keep well 
behind me. There is no saying what he will be 
up to this time.” 

“ I shall go with you, too,” the bishop said. 

“ Let us all go,” I pleaded, “ but we must make 
no noise. Mrs. Rattray must not hear us.” 

" One moment,” said Edmund. He slipped out 
of the room and returned almost at once with a 
leather plaited “ life preserver ” which always 
accompanied him. 

Without another word we crept down to the 
kitchen. Bates took an oil lamp from the table 
and lighted us down the cellar steps. As we de¬ 
scended I distinctly heard three gentle taps at 
the door. 

Slowly and almost noiselessly Edmund worked 
back the bolts, then throwing the door open he 
stepped quickly backwards, and stood with his 
left foot forward, tlit life preserver in his hand 
poised ready for a .blow. 

But Jakoub made no rush. 

A hoarse weak voice asked, “ Are the police 
gone ? ” 


HOW CAPTAIN WELFARE RETURNED 299 

Bates raised the lamp, and peering through the 
door I saw a figure sitting huddled on the step 
that led down into the underground passage. 

“ Welfare ! ” Edmund exclaimed. 

I recognised Welfare’s slab of a face, blanched 
and shrunken. A blood-soaked scarf was knotted 
round his head. One side of his face, his neck, 
and one shoulder, were plastered with blood con¬ 
gealed in jelly-like masses. 

“ Are they gone ? ” he asked again. 

“Yes, long ago,” said Edmund stooping down 
to raise him. 

“ That’s all right then,” Welfare answered. 
“ Steady; I’ve been faint for a bit, losing blood 
from a cut in the head. Bleeding’s stopped now 
I think, but I don’t want to start it again. Let 
me get on my knees. That’s it.” 

Slowly and painfully on hands and knees he 
crawled into the cellar, and managed to sit on the 
floor. I had not known a man could lose so much 
blood and live. I feared I should be sick, and I 
saw the bishop’s face turn grey, but he did not speak. 

“ Let’s have a look,” said Edmund quietly, 
busying himself with the knot in the scarf. 

“ Three or four stitches,” said Welfare, “ will 
stop it breaking out again. You’ll find a doctor’s 
bent needle and some gut in the little case in my 
right-hand pocket. Then you can wash it, and cut 
away these clothes. I’ll be all right in a few 
minutes.” 

“ Hadn’t he better have some brandy ? ” I asked. 

" Not till I get the stitches in,” Edmund said 
with decision. “It would only-start the bleeding. 
I think, my lord, you and my brother had better 
leave us. Bates and I will get him upstairs in a 
bit.” 


300 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

We were evidently useless. As we turned to go 
we met Bates coming down the stairs with a basin 
and jug of water, a sponge, towels, cotton wool 
and bandages. I realised the hopelessness of my 
even giving directions to one so much more capable 
than myself. 

For half an hour the bishop and I hovered uneasily 
in the smoking-room, listening to every sound that 
came from the cellar below. It had been impos¬ 
sible to question the sorely wounded man about 
Jakoub, but the same dread, the same horror, 
was in both our minds. Jakoub in his madness 
had wounded Welfare and escaped. Already I 
believed he must have run blindly into the trap 
prepared for him. Nothing now could explain my 
action in concealing him from the police, and the 
bishop himself could hardly escape aspersion. 

At last we heard slow steps ascending the cellar 
stairs. 


CHAPTER XVIII 


HOW JAKOUB WAS NO MORE SEEN- 

C APTAIN WELFARE came in leaning on 
Edmund, who helped him into an arm-chair. 
His head was neatly bandaged, and 
he was clad in a dressing-gown. He was still 
evidently weak, although largely restored from 
the pitiable object that had crawled into the cellar. 

The bishop and I hastened to commiserate him, 
and I suggested his going straight to bed. 

" No, thank you, sir/’ he said, leaning back in 
the chair. " I’m better now. I shall be all right 
in a few minutes. Yotir man is getting me some¬ 
thing to drink. Anyhow I must keep on my 
legs for a bit. There’s a deal to be settled and 
done to-night.” 

" Where is Jakoub ? ” I ventured to ask at last. 
" I don’t think you will blame me, sir, or his 
lordship either, when I tell you about it. He 
came at me like a leopard. As you know, I meant 
him no harm.” 

“ I know you did not, captain. We are so far 
from blaming you that we are only sorry you should 
have been so hurt. It was a dastardly attack.” 

“ Aye. A proper dago’s trick,” said Welfare. 
He paused to sip a glass of hot milk and brandy 
which he had prescribed for himself, and which cer¬ 
tainly seemed to revive him in a remarkable degree. 

301 


302 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

“ It was quite dark in that passage/’ he con¬ 
tinued. “ I stood about half way up it, wondering 
would you have got my message. It seemed a 
long time waiting, but at last I heard the door open 
and shut, and then footsteps coming very quietly 
on. I flashed an electric torch to show I was 
there, and the footsteps stopped. I waited, and 
then as I heard no more I went up the passage 
searching it with the torch. 

“ Presently I saw someone crouching at the 
side. ‘ Is that Jakoub ? ’ I asked, but there 
was no answer. 4 It’s all right,’ I said, ‘ it’s me. 
Captain Ringrose/ which was the name he knew 
me by. Then he seemed to take a little run, 
stooping like an animal ; I saw the glint -of a knife, 
and he was on me. I don’t rightly know how 
things happened then. Them natives always strike 
at your neck. Either I ducked or I happened 
to knock his hand up, but I felt the knife ripping 
my scalp. ‘ You rob me, devil, I kill you/ he 
says in a kind of snarl, as I closed on him, and 
then by good luck I got his wrist in my left hand. 
He twisted round me like a snake, but I used my 
weight and crushed him against the side of the 
passage. I knew he was struggling to get the knife 
in his other hand. He gave another twist and 
was almost free, but I managed to hold his wrist, 
and I felt both bones of his arm snap, but that 
didn’t quieten him, and then I got my right hand 
on his throat. 

“I knew my strength would go in a minute 
with the blood I was losing, and if I didn’t quiet 
him I was done for. I felt him stiffen like a steel 
spring as I gripped his throat. Then a buzzing 
came in my ears. He went limp like, and we fell 
together, me still holding him. 


HOW JAKOUB WAS NO MORE SEEN 303 

“ I suppose the fainting stopped my bleeding 
for a bit. Anyhow I came to, and Jakoub was 
still there half under me. He wasn’t breathing, 
and the blood started pumping out of my cut 
again, so I knotted my scarf as tight as I could 
over it and kept quiet to give it a chance of stop¬ 
ping. I felt about for the torch and found it, 
but it was broken. I was very giddy and sick, 
and I think I went over again. I seemed to be 
there a long while in the dark, and Jakoub never 
stirred. I put a hand on his face. His mouth 
was open, and his cheeks were dead cold.” 

Captain Welfare paused, exhausted by his long 
statement. Nobody spoke, or questioned him 
while he took another drink. The end of the 
story wais already 4 clear to us, and Edmund, of 
course, had already been told. The long intrigue 
of infamy had ended in battle, murder and sudden 
death. 

Captain Welfare was evidently distressed at our 
silence, interpreting it as meaning condemnation. 

“ I think, gentlemen,” he continued, “ you will 
see it was self-defence. I didn't mean him no 
harm, I was there to help him. But he meant 
doing me in right enough, and very nearly did. 

I could do nothing for him myself, but I tried 
to get help for him in case there was a chance 
still. I started to crawl for the house, as I thought, 
but I had lost my bearings, and when I came 
round a bend I saw the moonlight at the other- 
end of the passage. Then the bleeding broke 
out again and I had to wait. Half an hour I should 
think I waited, and when I got back to Jakoub 
there was no mistake about it any more. He was 
dead right enough. But I swear, my lord, if I never 
speak another word, it was self-defence. I didn’t 


304 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

mean to kill him. I didn’t want to kill him. What 
did he want to kill me for ? ” 

“ As far as I am concerned,” said the bishop, 
“ I accept your word absolutely. It is a heavy 
misfortune, especially for you, but there is certainly 
no blame attaching to you. If I remember rightly 
the wretched man said something about you just 
as he left us.” 

“ Yes,” said Edmund, “ * this is a trap of Captain 
Ringrose/ or something of that sort.” 

“ He always thought that I was against him. 
I had to watch him, and I often caught him out 
trying to cheat us.” 

“ But all this must have happened hours ago, 
Welfare,” I exclaimed, “why did you wait so long ? ” 

“ Why, you see, sir, it took me a long time to 
get to this end of the passage. When I got to 
the door I did not know whether the police would 
be in the house or not. . I thought, if I try to get 
in while they are there we shall all be ruined. So 
I determined to wait until—well, until I was really 
afraid I could not afford to bleed any more. But 
I'll be all right now. The question is, what are 
we to do about it ? ” 

“ Unless we decide to own up to the whole 
thing,” Edmund argued, “ we shall have to carry 
him out and leave him under the cliff. They will 
think he has fallen over in the dark.” 

Welfare shook his head slowly. 

“ That would not do,” he said, “ I could not see 
him in the dark, but there will be no mistake 
about the marks I have left on his throat. It 
wouldn’t take a doctor to tell he was strangled. 
They would be bound to trace back to the passage, 
and then ask how he got there and who killed 
him.” 


HOW JAKOUB WAS NO MORE SEEN 305 

An idea came into my mind, but I forbore to 
utter it. It seemed to me to come in the guise 
of temptation ; temptation to use this catastrophe 
to further our own ends. 

“We might take a boat and bury him at sea,” 
Welfare suggested. 

This was so like my own idea, that I looked 
around to see how the others took it. The bishop 
had been sitting in silent meditation. He now 
rose, and stood with his hands clasped behind 
him looking down on us with an expression of 
great sadness. 

“ Why not bury him where he is ? ” he asked. 
It was my own idea, and I gasped to hear it pro¬ 
pounded by him. 

“ This wretched man’s life,” he continued, “ was 
forfeit to the law. Had the law taken him alive 
the law could only have slain him. That has 
been done as a result of his own wickedness and 
folly. Of what use is it to hand over his dead 
body to the law ? He wrought enough mischief in 
his life. His dead body would but work more. It 
would involve some at least of us in utter ruin at the 
hands of the law. A ruin that none has deserved in 
such measure. I counsel you, Davoren, to let the 
wretched business end here. The man was not of 
our faith, so could not claim Christian burial or con¬ 
secrated ground. But he was a human being and 
shall not be buried like a dog.’ ’ 

There was again silence among us, a silence quick¬ 
ened with apprehension.- It became clear to me 
that the idea that had germinated in my own 
mind had only seemed to be tainted with guilt 
because my soul was not seated .high enough for 
clear moral judgment. The intrinsic rightness of 
the thing was manifest now that Parminter had 

u 


306 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

placed it in the clear light of an honest man’s inde¬ 
pendent decision. 

As it happened Welfare became our spokesman 
and his primitive outlook on life was the one thing 
needed to express the attitude of each one of us. 

“If this seems the straight thing to your lord- 
ship/’ he said, “ it’s good enough for me. I would 
not have suggested it, because I seem to be coming 
out too cheap. It wasn’t murder, because it 
was ^elf-defence. But I’d be bound to own up to 
manslaughter.” 

“ Don’t you think, Captain Welfare, that you 
ought to get to bed ? ” I asked. I was really 
concerned about the man, but 1 wanted to get rid 
of him too. 

“ Thank you, sir. But there is no need. If 
you don’t mind, I’d rather see the job through 
now.” 

It was impossible for me to protest. After 
all he was my guest. Nevertheless what I ought 
to have regarded as his indomitable courage appeared 
to me mere want of tact. His presence made 
any communion between the bishop and myself 
an utter impossibility. I wanted to talk to the 
bishop alone and Welfare’s presence was something 
I resented in a great tragic moment of my life. I 
fear I suspected in him the love of the lower middle 
class for anything in the nature of a funeral. 

Edmund said nothing, but rang the bell. 

When Bates came in he whispered to him, and 
they left together. I knew they had gone to dig 
Jakoub’s grave, and presently the thud of a pick¬ 
axe and the sound of shovelling were conveyed 
to us along the passage and through the floor. 

It was weary waiting in that room, listening to 
those dismal sounds, with Captain Welfare endlessly 


HOW JAKOUB WAS NO MORE SEEN 307 

repeating the same explanations, the same apologies. 

Through the open window I heard a rustling in 
the trees, and then a sudden puff of wind blew 
the curtains inward and caused the lamp to flare. 
The long-delayed storm had reached us and the 
moon was blotted out. There was a sudden splash 
of rain hard driven by the west wind. I rose to 
shut the window, and looking out the thought came 
to me that this darkness and confused rushing of 
the wind was more natural for the passing of Jakoub’s 
disordered soul than the serene tranquillity that 
had preceded it. It was as though the west wind 
had arisen to bear that soul back to the East where 
alone it could be at home. 

One o’clock had struck when Edjnund came 
back, soiled and perspiring, to tell us That all was 
ready. 

Captain Welfare insisted on accompanying us, 
exhausted as he must have been, and he was helped 
down the stairs-.'by Edmund. 

By the light of a>stable lantern we made our 
way for the last time along the fatal tunnel, and 
found Bates awaiting us. 

The grave was dug close to the far end of the 
tunnel, and I marvelled at the immense amount 
of earth that had been removed in little more than 
an hour. 

The body of Jakoub, shrouded in a white sheet, 
lay on a borrd beside the grave with ropes in place 
for lowering it. 

The bishop took his place at the head of the' 
grave, facing his congregation of four. 

“ My friends,” he said, “ this is a solemn moment 
which must ever be present in the memory of each 
of us. The wages of sin is death, and this our 
brother, who was not the only sinner among us, 


308 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

has paid the penalty. He has drawn his wages 
in this world. That he may be the only one to 
pay that penalty is a thought that should humble 
us who are left behind. We are committing an 
act for which we should certainly be condemned 
by the laws of our country, but it is an act for 
which I take full responsibility. I am sure that 
it is not only expedient from the worldly point 
of view., but that it is right. Because to act legally 
in this matter would cause injustice to be done 
in the name of justice. I therefore as a priest 
absolve you from responsibility in this matter, 
and I counsel you to pray for the forgiveness of 
God for the wrong that each of us may have done. 
Whether my judgment in this matter is right will 
be proved by the event. If this night’s event 
should bring any of you to lead a better life and 
to serve God while you still have opportunity, 
I shall be sure that my action has God’s blessing 
upon it. This man has died in his sin and without 
the faith that supports and consoles a Christian. 
But it is not for us to place limits on the mercy 
of Almighty God. Let us offer a silent prayer 
that that mercy may be extended to this our 
brother.” 

As we continued in reverent silence round the 
grave a pale gleam of moonlight faintly lit the 
scene, throwing dark shadows across the excava¬ 
tion and shining mournfully on the white wrapping 
of the corpse that lay beside us. 

Looking out through the opening of the tunnel 
I saw as in a frame a portion of the sky. The 
main body of the great storm cloud had passed, 
and it was followed by a broken, hurrying rear-guard 
of ragged clouds through which the moon seemed 
to battle her way to the west, now submerged, 


HOW JAKOUB WAS NO MORE SEEN 309 

now showing pale and dim, like the terrified face 
of a swimmer emerging between the waves of a 
heavy sea. 

At a sign from the bishop the body of Jakoub 
was lowered into the grave. We threw a little 
soil upon it with the customary words, " Earth 
to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust.” 

Then as the grave was filled in the bishop repeated 
one verse from the funeral psalm : “ For I am 
a stranger with thee and a sojourner, as all my 
fathers were,”. and then pronounced the bene¬ 
diction. 

Thus with reverence and as much ceremony as 
is permitted by the rubric which prescribes that 
“ the office ensuing shall not be used for any that 
die unbaptised or excommunicate,” the body 
of Jakoub was committed to the earth, and his 
stormy passage through life ended almost within 
the precincts of my quiet Sussex vicarage. 

As we parted for the night to get what rest we 
could, I felt that my tranquillity was at last restored. 
I could think almost kindly of Jakoub, for I believed 
that with him had gone the malign influence that 
had darkened Edmund’s life and threatened to 
destroy his character. 


CHAPTER XIX 


CONCLUSION 

I HAVE done what I needed to do for my own 
satisfaction by putting in the form of a con¬ 
secutive narrative the peculiar and perhaps 
sometimes unseemly transactions which have now 
been recorded. 

I had only a fragmentary diary, occasional 
notes of conversations written while the spoken 
words were still fresh and vibrant in my memory, 
and my own recollection of events. 

I dreaded lest the latter might fade as I grew 
older, and that loose leaves of manuscript might 
be lost or destroyed before I had even in my own 
mind a clear perspective of happenings that were 
often so bewildering to me while I dwelt in the 
midst of them. 

I desire especially that Edmund’s children may 
some day have an opportunity of appraising the 
truth about their father’s youth, if it should happen 
that any aspersions should ever be cast upon his 
character. For I do believe in children knowing 
the truth about their parents. Filial love, without 
any opportunity for comparison and just criticism, 
seems to me but a hollow tradition, liable to collapse 
at the first whiff of truth. 

I think no child of Edmund’s need ever be ashamed 
of his father. His experience, his peculiar faculties 
and personality, have enabled him to render very 
signal and special services to his country in develop- 

310 


CONCLUSION 


3ii 

ing the waterways of Africa. In all his letters to 
me he apologises for the reputation he has gained, 
which he says is entirely due to the practical 
sagacity and knowledge of detail with which Welfare 
supplies him. Edmund has already been presented 
with a C.M.G., but Welfare’s name is unknown. 

Yet I happen to know that Welfare is an exceed¬ 
ingly contented man. In a recent letter he tells 
me, “ I am able to save a third of my pay, and 
if I don't marry at the finish I shall have a few 
hundreds to leave where I shall die happy in leaving 
it. I have th'e work I am suited with, under the 
finest chief a man ever served. I have been baptised 
into the Church out here, but not until I was able 
to send a decent present to my father’s and my old 
chapel. They tell me they have cut my name 
on one of the stones in the wall ‘ laid by Josiah 
Welfare.’ Well, fancy ! " 

I reflected that 1 had never known Welfare’s 
Christian name before. But I was glad it was 
engraved on the old dry-salter’s place of worship. 

I have had a visit from Brogden, while he was 
on leave. He told me that Jakoub’s disappear¬ 
ance from my house had become one of the mys¬ 
teries not only of Egypt but of Scotland Yard. 
I had hard work to resist the desire to confess, 
but since that was impossible, I compounded by 
installing a motor-car on my premises during 
Brogden’s stay. When he had gone I sold the 
atrocious thing at a heavy loss. But Brogden 
had enjoyed himself, and the financial loss was 
not enough to salve my conscience completely. 

On the other hand, Bates resented the temporary 
chauffeur, and Mrs. Rattray disliked him. Be¬ 
tween them they inflicted on me a penance which 
I think straightens my moral account with Brogden. 


312 A MEDITERRANEAN MYSTERY 

The penance might have been excessive only 
that Edmund’s fiancee is the daughter of a fairly 
near neighbour, an ex-commissioner under whom 
Edmund had served. She is now constantly here 
awaiting Edmund’s return. Bates and Mrs. Rat¬ 
tray are completely subjugated by her. She settled 
the matter of the chauffeur and got rid of him 
with a minimum of friction. 

She makes me desperately jealous of Edmund, 
but I endeavour to realise that I belong to a bygone 
generation, that I am become, in fact, a “ dear old 
thing." 

Jakoub’s bones are unlikely now to be disturbed. 
They are honoured by having a vault as well as 
a grave for their repose. For the smuggler’s 
passage has been sealed up by solid masonry at 
either end. It will never be opened again in my 
lifetime, and I hope it is now closed for ever. 

The bishop spent an evening with me recently, 
and I showed him parts of this manuscript. 

“ As far as I know the story," he said, “ you 
have been very accurate. When I look back upon 
what has happened, especially on my own part 
in the affair, I am reminded of a phrase of yours— 
‘ I can look my conscience in the face.’ What 
a waste it would have been if your brother had 
become a mere hanger-on to your charity, after 
undergoing ‘ prison discipline.’ Whenever I think 
of him and of what might have happened to him, 
I think of those words of the psalmist, ‘ Though 
ye have lien among the pots, yet shall ye be as 
the wings of a dove, whose wings are covered 
with silver, and her feathers like gold.’ " 


The End. 























































































































































































































